Being short of breath, combined with a pain setting in your chest because your airways are closing, can be an anxiety-filled feeling. It's a feeling that can happen at any point in the day, and it's one that I've had to go through my entire life.

Growing up being asthmatic has never been fun and it's never been easy. When I was younger, my asthma was actually much worse than it is now, to the point where it felt like I practically lived at the hospital because I was there at least once a month for a week or two. And honestly, not being able to breathe, and knowing that you have to be rushed to the hospital because of how life-threatening the situation is extremely terrified me as a 5-year-old girl.

I used to cry endless nights in the hospital bed about how miserable I felt because I wanted to be in my own home, in my own bed, sleeping in my own sheets. In my head, all I wanted was to feel normal. My poor parents suffered with me knowing that, at any point, I could have lost my life. I hope to God they know how grateful I am to them for saving it and being my heroes because I know that, if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here today with all the wonderful people I'm surrounded with.

There was one night where it didn't look like it was going to end well. I know this story because I've heard my mom share it before. When I was 5, I had what was my worst attack. I have a short memory of seeing my mom crying and knowing that both my parents were trying to be strong, but I think deep down, I could feel that there wasn't going to be a good turnout. So that night, my mom told me I had said some pretty powerful words to her. I told her that if I were to die, that I wanted both of them to know that I loved them. I don't think I ever want to know what it feels like to be a parent and have to hear your child tell you that.

I always wanted to know what it was like to run with other kids during recess and be able to actually enjoy it instead of being the only one who had to sit out. I hated having to leave the classroom knowing that everyone's eyes were on me because I knew and they knew that it was time for me to do my treatment. It was embarrassing.

This ended up being my life until I reached the start of my teenage years. That's when the constant asthma started to die down a little bit, but it was still there. It was always tough doing different activities, like gym in middle school and high school. Even having to rush from class to class would get me winded. But, as the years went by, my asthma started looking like I was growing out of it and I was starting to feel normal; that was until my freshman year of college. The very first semester was not only tough because of having to adjust to the new setting of college, but with the combination of stress and the seasonal changes, that first semester became extremely brutal.

I was honestly expecting to have the best experience my first semester, especially during my first break in between the holidays, where I'd be able to enjoy that sense of accomplishment from surviving all the late nights of homework and the exams. But instead of relaxing and enjoying my time off, which most people had the opportunity of doing, I was stuck at home in bed for weeks because I couldn't breathe. I couldn't go up four steps of stairs without feeling out of breath or coughing. I couldn't go outside with the fear of making it worse. The only thing I could do was lay in bed and stare at the same ceiling every day because I couldn't stand to burn my eyes from watching anymore TV or staring at my phone for so long. And every three hours I had to do my treatment, which meant sitting there with a mask on my face while the steam of the treatment went into my lungs for fifteen minutes on a machine called a nebulizer.

If I were to describe what asthma feels like to me, I'd call it a monster latching onto your back trying to weigh you down, but you can't rip him off. And even if you do, enjoy your time, even if it's just for the moment because he's just going to come right back. I think the worst thing about when I feel the asthma is when I breathe in and hear that wheezing sound. I hate that sound. It's the worst whistling I've ever heard and it haunts my ears.

Although this had been going on my entire life, I still try to keep positivity going every single day. I try not to let it stop me from doing things I love like going outside during the spring and summer or going for a walk at the pier near my house, which is my most absolute favorite place to be because of how quiet and peaceful it is. And I try not to let it keep me from having fun with all the people I love from my friends, to my extended family my grandma, my brothers and my parents.

And since I'm on the topic of my family (including friends I consider as family) I want to thank each and every one of them for truly always being there for me. But I especially want to thank my mom and dad. You guys are a true inspiration and should be the real superheroes you see in comic books because you've never put yourselves first. And because of that I will always put you on a pedestal. You gave me the life I can live today.