Hello everyone, I’m Suri, an 11th-grade student in a regular high school. I’ve rarely shared my personal experiences with others before, but today, I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about how, after finding my way out of the confusion of anxiety and depression, I’ve been using my own way to accompany my classmates who are struggling as I once did.

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When I first entered high school, I quickly found myself in a tough spot. In middle school, I was a top student, but here, surrounded by equally excellent peers, my grades suddenly dropped to the middle of the pack. Seeing the expectant looks from my parents, the busy figures of my teachers, and feeling myself falling further behind, I started experiencing insomnia, low moods, and even developed an aversion to school. Fortunately, a good friend of mine found out and invited me to join Amy’s Women's Empowerment. There, the accepting companionship of peers my age and the volunteer sisters helped me gradually accept my own “imperfections,” understand that “grades aren’t everything in life,” and I eventually returned to campus.

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After returning to school, I treasured this newfound peace in my life all the more and always thought about doing something for those around me who were struggling just like I had. I don’t have the capacity to provide professional counseling, nor do I want to play the role of a “helper deliberately.” I feel that, as a peer, I might understand the worries they hide in their hearts a bit better. Soon, I noticed a new transfer student in my class who reminded me a lot of my past self: always keeping to herself, easily distracted in class, and hiding in a corner of the hallway to wipe away tears secretly after every exam.

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I didn’t rush to approach her with words. Instead, I slowly drew closer as just an ordinary classmate. During breaks, I would actively offer her my notes, asking, “Did you understand this part? If not, maybe we can look at it together.” On the way home after school, I’d occasionally ask casually, “Want to walk together? I know a really good dessert shop nearby.” I didn’t mention my own past experiences; I just quietly accompanied her, letting her know that someone was willing to walk alongside her.

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After we became more familiar, she opened up to me one day, saying she had been struggling to keep up since transferring, feeling stupid, afraid of being laughed at by classmates, and afraid of disappointing her parents. Seeing her eyes rimmed with red, I finally softly shared my own experience of taking leave from school and battling anxiety. I told her I used to feel worthless if I didn’t score well, even afraid to step into the classroom. But later, I realized we don’t have to force ourselves to compete with everyone else. As long as today’s self is a little better than yesterday’s, that’s already something to be proud of.

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After that, the two of us became good friends. We talk about recent troubles and offer each other support. I don’t spout grand philosophies; I listen attentively when she needs to vent, occasionally sharing my own small methods for coping with academic pressure. Like, “When you feel like you can’t study anymore, just stop and look at the scenery outside the window, or have a favorite snack. Don’t force yourself too hard,” or “If you can’t keep up with the teacher’s pace, you can talk to them about adjusting your study plan.” Last week, she happily told me she had improved by ten places in the monthly exam and had made two new friends. Now, she feels that going to school is something she enjoys.

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Hearing her news, I truly felt happy for her. Walking alongside her also taught me a lesson: you don’t need to do anything earth-shattering. Just sincere companionship and sharing that stems from genuine empathy can bring strength to those around you. I hope more students in the future will be willing to support each other. I’m also considering starting a support group when I go to university and have more time to continue warming the hearts of fellow students.

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That past anxiety and depression were like a light rain that dampened my youth, but they also taught me to cherish more and be more willing to give. Now, I’m no longer fixated on the notion that I “must get top scores.” I find greater joy in this state of “walking alongside others”—not needing to deliberately do anything special, just using my own lived experience and realizations as a peer to gently support those friends who are as lost as I once was.