The American dream isn’t fitting in. It’s having the freedom to be yourself.

HELPER — In ninth grade, I spent every morning stressing in front of my mirror, desperately trying to look like everyone else just to feel like I belong. Forcing myself into uncomfortable clothes I hated just to fit the trend made me realize how exhausting it was to fade into the background.

In that moment, I decided that being myself was far better than trying to act like someone I am not. Through that experience I learned that the truest form of American freedom isn’t the right to chase everyone else’s dream; it is the right to reject their expectations and build your own.

Growing up in the hard-working environment of Carbon County has taught me that courage often means choosing a different path. As we celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, it allows us to reflect on the past and contemplate the future. The American dream allows the opportunity for anyone to achieve success and prosperity through hard work and determination, but in my life I have experienced that it isn’t a one size fits all formula. It is something we each must define for ourselves.

Everywhere I look, the recipe for being a “successful” teenager feels completely copy-pasted. It’s an endless loop of viral TikTok trends, aesthetic outfits, and obsessing over likes to prove you matter.

I remember sitting at lunch one day, watching everyone endlessly scrolling through social media with barely any kids interacting with one another. It really hit me how we are constantly pushed to buy the right things, talk the right way, and chase a fake version of success that’s more about what’s on the surface instead of real character — the way we behave and all the things we go through. But changing who you naturally are for a few online likes isn’t freedom — its just letting the algorithm tell you who to be.

That trendy chase is a far cry from the real-world foundation this community was built on. To understand where America is heading, I look to where it has been. Decades ago, agricultural pioneers flooded to this area to work the mines and railroads, creating a hardworking industrialized force. Their dreams were not easily achieved. As many mine disasters occurred, those challenges built resilience and strengthened the community.

Living in Carbon County, especially a town like Helper, has connected me to the legacy of hard work. My dad works as a farrier, spending most of his days shoeing horses and shaping metal. It isn’t a typical 9-to-5 desk job, but it’s vital. By keeping horses sound, healthy, and able to do their jobs, he directly supports the farmers, ranchers, and families, who use and need them. Watching him along with the local people in our community who work from sunrise to dark, taught me what real strength looks like.

Seeing this dedication opened my eyes to incredible people who keep our society running — coal miners keep our power plants fueled, the farmers working endlessly to grow our food, and the people in trade who do the most grueling hands-on work most people overlook. Without them, there is no electricity, no food on the table, and no foundation for our daily lives.

Their resilience isn’t for show or online fame. It’s quiet, steady, and built on character, a stark contrast to a digital world that often values image over actual substance. Our nation has shifted from that of an industrialized era into a fast paced digitally connected age. Today, popular culture and social media tries to carve every teenager into the same molded shape. Telling kids that success is measured by external validation and a checklist of status, rather than personal fulfillment of character.

Stepping into the school bathroom between classes. I am normally always hit with the same scene: a crowd of girls packed around the mirrors, touching up their makeup, adjusting their clothes, and picking apart their reflections. They are all naturally beautiful just the way they are, yet they stare into the glass like they’re trying to fix a flaw that isn’t there.

For a long time, watching this made me feel out of place. I wondered why so many people have lost confidence in themselves they should still have. But as I looked and my heart softened for my fellow classmates, I realized that the “perfect mold” everyone is desperately trying to reach is just a fake standard created by popular culture.

Looking back on myself, the pressure to conform took a toll on my character in 8th grade. I fell into a crowd of bad influences, letting the push to be popular cloud my judgement and drive choices I’m not proud of. I wasn’t acting like myself, and worse, I became a bad example to others simply because I wanted to be accepted. By the end of that year, I looked in the mirror and hated who I had allowed myself to become. It took falling into that trap to realize that popularity gained by losing your integrity is worthless.

Carrying that regret into high school completely reshaped my priorities. It taught me that standing alone with your values is far better than standing with a crowd that leads you away from who you truly are. The true American dream isn’t letting others dictate who you are; it is about the bravery to step up from a collective trend, reject the expectations of the crowd, and carve out your own identity. Take risks, work hard, be a good person.

Choosing different standards from the people around me isn’t a sign of failure. It is an expression of liberty itself. The history of my community teaches resilience in the face of obstacles, and choosing my own values in a world that demands conformity is my way of carrying that resilience forward. Realizing how easily I lost myself in 8th grade became the ultimate turning point. Looking at who I had become, I promised myself I would never fall back into that type of person.

I wanted to be someone who younger girls could look up to — someone who proved that it’s ok to be different, to pursue what you love, and to enjoy who you are without asking for society’s permission. That decision changed everything for me. Today I use my experiences to help others navigate the heavy pressures of the world growing up.

I translate those values into real action in Carbon County: leading clothing and back to school drives, attending leadership camps, and having amazing opportunities to serve, such as sewing surgery dolls for children at our local hospital. Finding out who I truly am gave me the confidence to step out of the crowd and make a difference. True worth isn’t defined by a collective trend, but by individual choices and overall character. Living a life defined not by online approval, but by real purpose and service.

My concern for our great nation’s future is that we are losing the necessary space for individuality. As a society we are so caught up in expectations that we forget the value of deeply personal dreams. My hope for future America is that we celebrate those who live up to the freedoms our country fought so hard to gain. In years ahead, I see an America where success isn’t a pre-made mold you have to squeeze yourself into, but a wide open path where every single person has the liberty to be an individual. By claiming the freedom to work hard for my own prosperity and set my own standards of integrity, I am honoring the truest form of American promise that I hope continues for generations; the right to build a meaningful life on your own terms.

Note to readers • This contest was produced by The Salt Lake Tribune, Spy Hop and Amplify Utah. It was supported through a grant from the American Journalism Project.