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When I first boarded a flight from Karnal, Haryana, India, to Galloway, New Jersey, USA, I had two suitcases: one filled with clothes, and the other packed with dreams. I was 17—leaving behind the only home I’d ever known to pursue a future I could barely imagine. At that moment, I wasn’t just a girl chasing a degree. I was carrying my family’s hopes, my culture’s expectations, and the silent pressure to prove I belonged.

I came to study Computer Science and Mathematics—two fields still largely dominated by men, especially in the communities I come from. Back home, girls are often nudged toward “safe” careers. Choosing STEM was my quiet rebellion. Choosing to pursue it thousands of miles from home was my act of becoming.

At ������Ƶ, I wasn’t just learning to code or solve theorems—I was learning how to find my voice in rooms where I was often the only woman, the only international student, or both. I was learning how to belong without shrinking, how to lead without apology, and how to carry both courage and culture in the same breath.

There were moments when I doubted everything. I wondered if my accent would be a barrier, if I’d ever build a support system, if I could truly thrive in a country where even the classroom and cafeteria felt unfamiliar. But every challenge became a lesson in resilience.

Being a woman in STEM meant raising my hand even when I wasn’t sure I’d be heard—and sometimes raising it again when I was interrupted. Being international meant navigating visa paperwork and immigration policies while also preparing for midterms. But it also gave me a lens of empathy and adaptability—one that I now use to build something bigger than myself.

That’s why I founded ������Ƶ’s International Student Organization—a way for me to provide my peer international students with that support system.

Moreover, I dove into research, exploring graph theory puzzles and the role of Artificial Intelligence in aging and mental health in addition to pursuing internships with ������Ƶ Esports and Council for Advancement and Support of Education (CASE). I also studied abroad in Taiwan—traveling across the world again, pushing my boundaries just a little further each time.

And it’s why I’ll never stop showing up—for myself, and for the young women who come after me.

I’ve been fortunate to have professors like Dr. Duo (Helen) Wei, Dr. Bradley Forrest, Dr. Demetrios Roubos, Dr. Renganathan Iyer, and many others who believed in me—especially in moments when I struggled to believe in myself. My peers reminded me that vulnerability isn’t a weakness, but a quiet form of courage. Through late-night study sessions, conference presentations, and every leadership role I embraced, I began to understand something deeper: I wasn’t just studying STEM. I was beginning to live it—fully, fearlessly, and above all, authentically.

To every young woman wondering if she’s enough—especially those crossing oceans, borders, and barriers—I want to say this: You are.

And the rooms that don’t yet reflect you? They need you the most.

My journey in STEM isn’t just about algorithms, equations, or research papers. It’s about the quiet power of showing up. It’s about the beauty of growing into yourself and the responsibility of making space for others to do the same.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s this: Your background is not a burden. It’s your superpower.

So own it. Speak up. Step forward. And never let anyone make you feel like you have to shrink to fit in. Because you don’t just belong here. You’re needed here.