I stare at the spreadsheet on my laptop, scrolling through tuition costs, housing estimates, and scholarship deadlines for University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I recalculate everything even though the numbers barely change. I have always liked numbers because of their predictability. In math, there is usually a right answer waiting at the end. In finance, there are patterns, probabilities, and calculated risks.
That mindset is part of why I want to study math and finance. I like structure. I like solving problems. At the same time, I have realized that the biggest moments in life do not work that way. There is no formula for knowing whether a decision is completely right before you make it. That uncertainty is something I still struggle with. For a long time, control felt important because so much of my life felt outside of my control.
As the oldest of three siblings, I often felt responsible for setting an example and helping things run smoothly at home. That feeling became even stronger when my dad lost his job three times while I was growing up. I was old enough to notice the impact it had on my parents: conversations about finances, stress that lingered beneath everyday routines, and questions that did not have immediate answers.
Without anyone asking me to, I started putting pressure on myself to make life easier for everyone else. I kept my grades high. I stayed out of trouble. I handled things on my own because I never wanted to become another source of stress for my family. Over time, I stopped asking for help altogether. I felt like my job was to stay manageable. I became uncomfortable with situations where I could not immediately succeed because failure felt like becoming another source of stress for the people around me.
Even when I think about college, my mind immediately turns everything into calculations. How much will tuition cost? How quickly can I graduate? What path makes the most financial sense?
By the time I started thinking seriously about college, I realized how often I approached opportunities by asking whether they were practical before asking whether they mattered to me. That mindset shows up most clearly when I think about studying abroad in China. It is something I genuinely want to do, but instead of imagining what the experience would be like, I usually start thinking about the cost, the timing, and whether it makes sense financially. Part of the reason it matters so much to me is because it would allow me to connect with a part of my family history that I have only experienced through stories.
When my grandparents, Ah Niang and Ye-Ye, visit from New York, we spend afternoons making wontons together. I scoop the filling, fold the wrappers, and pinch them closed the way they taught me. My grandfather grew up in Hong Kong, and my grandmother’s family came from Taiwan. I have heard stories about crowded streets, family traditions, and the sacrifices they made to build a life in America, but I have never experienced any of it. That part of my identity feels distant from me, like something I inherited without fully understanding.
That is why studying abroad matters to me so much. I want to walk the streets my grandparents once walked. I want to understand my culture beyond stories, recipes, and photographs.
At the same time, part of me immediately starts calculating why it may not be realistic. For almost three years, I have worked at Chipotle, and the job has changed the way I think about money and responsibility. The hours I spend working have become tied to future tuition bills, which makes giving up a summer paycheck feel like a real sacrifice. I think about the cost of missing a summer of work, the possibility of needing an extra semester to graduate, and whether taking that opportunity would place more financial pressure on my family.
If someone asked me “why not?” my first instinct has usually been to calculate the risks before I consider the rewards. That habit has helped me become responsible, but it has also made it easy to stay inside my comfort zone and talk myself out of experiences that could help me grow.
I do not want to spend four years sitting in my dorm room because it’s comfortable. I want to join clubs, meet people outside of my normal circle, try new things, and fully experience everything college has to offer even when it feels unfamiliar at first.
I have already started looking into UNC’s study abroad opportunities and mapping out what it would take to make it work financially. A scholarship would allow me to focus less on making the safest financial decision and more on embracing opportunities that help me grow academically and personally.
For most of my life, I measured decisions by how safe they felt. Now, I am starting to measure them by whether they will help me grow. I still find myself defaulting to planning, calculating, and looking for answers before I act, but I am learning that not every meaningful decision comes with that kind of predictability.
Years from now, I want to look back on college and know that I chose experiences that helped me better understand both the world and myself. For me, that includes taking opportunities like studying abroad, not because they are the easiest or most practical choice, but because they offer something I cannot get anywhere else. I want to leave college with more than a degree. I want to leave with a deeper understanding of where I come from, who I am, and the confidence to pursue opportunities even when I cannot calculate exactly where they will lead.
