The year 2025 arrived, and Emily was now 21. Life had taken an unexpected turn when she enrolled in Bright Horizons University, a private institution known for its strong focus on psychology. She had chosen psychology not just as a subject, but as a lifeline, a way to understand the complexities of the human mind - and her own.

Sitting in her first lecture on abnormal psychology, Emily felt something stir within her. The words of her professor resonated deeply: "Understanding the human mind requires empathy, the ability to see the world from someone else's perspective. Without that, we cannot hope to heal others or ourselves."

She scribbled down the words, a quiet determination settling over her. This was her path. Everything she had endured - the anxiety, the depression, the sleepless nights - had shaped her. She knew what it felt like to be unseen, unheard. And she vowed that she would never let anyone else feel that way.

Her first semester was a whirlwind of assignments, late-night study sessions, and group projects. Despite the challenges, she thrived. Her professors noticed her dedication, her friends admired her resilience, and for the first time, Emily felt a sense of belonging. Yet, something was still missing.

Her parents remained as strict as ever. They monitored her every move, questioning her if she stayed on campus a minute too long or if she laughed too loudly with friends. Trips with her university peers were out of the question.

"You're here to study, not to waste time with frivolous activities," her father would say whenever she brought up the idea of joining her friends for a weekend trip.

Her mother added, "You'll have time for fun once you've graduated and built a successful career. Right now, focus on your studies."

Emily nodded, swallowing her disappointment as she always did. But each refusal left her feeling more isolated. While her friends shared photos of their adventures, Emily's phone remained a gallery of notes and lecture slides. The only photos she had of herself were from school trips years ago. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken a selfie, the last time she had smiled just for herself.

Even her relationship with Rosy, the friend who had once been her lifeline, had changed. Rosy no longer called every morning and night as she used to. Their conversations were now rare, spaced out by weeks of silence. When they did talk, Rosy seemed distant, asking only about Emily's lectures or any new updates, never delving into deeper topics or asking about her parents. Emily missed the connection they once had but reminded herself that at least Rosy still messaged her from time to time. It was more than she could say for others.

One evening, as she sat in her dorm room, Emily stared at her reflection in the small mirror on her desk. "Who are you?" she whispered to herself. "Are you just a student? Just a daughter? When do you get to be you?"

Her friend from her old school, the one who had always been her anchor, called her that night. "How's university life treating you?" she asked.

Emily hesitated before answering. "It's? good. I'm learning a lot."

"And your parents? Are they easing up?"

Emily let out a bitter laugh. "Not a chance. They still think fun is a crime and freedom is a luxury I don't deserve."

Her friend sighed. "Emily, you're 21 now. You've been through so much. Don't you think it's time you started living for yourself?"

The words hit Emily like a thunderclap. She didn't respond, but that night, as she lay in bed, her friend's words echoed in her mind. She had always put others first - her parents, her friends, even her professors. But wasn't it time to put herself first, to take control of her own happiness?

As the semester ended, Emily made a silent promise to herself. She didn't know how, but she would find a way to balance her responsibilities and her desires. She would honor her parents' sacrifices, but she would also honor herself. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but Emily had faced darkness before. And she knew she had the strength to find her light.