2024 PLV Scholarship Winner Beatriz Palacios on Growing Up in a First-Generation Family & Overcoming an Eating Disorder

I am thrilled to introduce Beatriz Palacios, the winner of the 2024 PLV Scholarship and a graduate of Foothill High School in Tustin, my mother Patricia’s alma mater. Earlier this month, my husband Shawn and I had the pleasure of meeting Beatriz in person at a café in Irvine. Putting a face to her application reaffirmed our decision. We were moved by her heartfelt expression of gratitude and inspired to learn more about the forces that have shaped her — both the hardships and the incredible triumphs.

From the time she entered elementary school, Beatriz felt driven to achieve, harboring what she described as “hidden expectations” of herself in her application essay. As the firstborn child of immigrants from Mexico, her father hoped that she would be the first in her family to attend college in the US. Beatriz saw her father as a paragon of impeccable work ethic and fierce determination. He pushed her to succeed so that she might actualize her own American Dream of material comfort and prosperity.

Beatriz, however, faced unique challenges as a first-generation student in California. As a kindergartener first entering school, she spoke only Spanish and had to learn English in the classroom. This left her feeling anxious and invisible; she recalls feeling like she had no voice. Conflict within her parents’ marriage added to the emotional turmoil she faced during these formative years.

By the time Beatriz got to high school, she continued to shoulder the burden of heavy expectations, many of them self-imposed. After learning about her school’s International Baccalaureate (IB) pathway — an academically rigorous program renowned around the world for preparing students for university study — she decided that this was the most promising way to reach her academic and career-related aspirations. She felt torn, though, between IB and AVID (Advancement Via Individual Determination), another reputable program offered by her high school that helps to equip college-bound students for higher education. Feeling that the better-known IB program would provide the only gateway to a reputable college, she went with this option, determined to achieve straight As. In her essay, she stated that IB served as her primary “shield against [her] own fear of failure.”

Partway through her junior year, the pressure to succeed at all costs caught up with Beatriz, and she underwent what she referred to as a “complete transformation.” Losing herself in the ferocious grip of an eating disorder, she lost significant weight, wasting away to a mere 82lbs. She poured her little remaining energy into her studies.

With guidance and support from her mother — who, by this point, was deeply concerned about her daughter’s health — Beatriz realized that in order to thrive, and perhaps to even survive, she would need to prioritize her physical and emotional wellbeing, even if this meant adjusting her notion of what it meant to truly succeed. She made the decision to transfer from IB to AVID, a choice that affirmed her newfound commitment to herself. She also bravely confronted her eating disorder, ending the war with food amid the constant internal struggle. Beatriz rethought her — and indeed many others’ — previously narrow definitions of success and achievement, adopting a stance that honored her mind, body, and spirit.

Beatriz beamed with excitement while telling me about her plans to attend the University of California, Irvine, in the fall, where she will be studying Criminology, Law, and Society. Beatriz hopes to eventually pursue law and is considering a career in family or corporate law. When I inquired further about her personal goals and ambitions, Beatriz emphasized the importance of providing for her parents and her younger brother with autism, making it clear that her goal was for her brother to always feel loved and supported.

I was struck by both Beatriz’s selflessness and by her sense of groundedness, which can be easy to lose sight of when climbing to new heights through the pursuit of exciting new life endeavors. Her goal had never been achievement solely for achievement’s sake; it was largely to honor her family and provide in tangible ways to improve their quality of life and secure their economic wellbeing, even with the odds stacked against them. By the time of her high school graduation, Beatriz conquered her language barrier, IB pursuit challenges, and eating disorder in a remarkable display of grace and resilience, pushing forward in a way that allowed for conventional definitions of success only after prioritizing her own wellness. Her overwhelming gratitude, combined with her authentic kindness and brave-hearted spirit, serve as a powerful reminder of why I keep running this scholarship program year after year.

Keep reading for Beatriz’s written interview, in which she shares her own wisdom and insight.

Beatriz in Her Own Words

What would you like for others to know about the experience of being a first-generation Spanish-speaking student entering an American school? Did the language barrier have an impact on whether, and how, you used your voice?

Beatriz: I entered kindergarten lacking the ability to speak English. As the firstborn of two Mexican immigrants in the US, my initial language was Spanish, the sole manner of communication I knew. I recall not understanding what my teacher and classmates said; at a point, I shed tears out of frustration. Not being able to understand left me feeling like an outcast since everyone knew how to speak and comprehend English but me. I even became unappreciative of my origins, wishing I had instead been born into a white American household instead. I became a shy, timid child in class. 

I learned English a year later but was enrolled in ELD (English Language Development). Though encouraged to speak out in public, the language barrier indeed affected my early years of school due to my fear of saying something wrong, getting laughed at, or causing disruptions. As I grew older, I stayed reserved and hesitant to ask questions. In my mind, their language is not my language. 

I grew without recognizing it. During the second semester of my sophomore year, I struggled with geometry. I mustered the courage to seek out guidance, as grades are very important to me. In class, I began to raise my hand and ask questions. Strangely, I didn’t feel humiliated; instead, pride triumphed as I acquired knowledge about the subject and effortlessly aced mathematics. I acquired communication skills, which spread to the rest of my courses. I even began staying after class and sought assistance during class from teachers and fellow students.

At the present time, I’m confident that my voice is a strength of mine. Back then, I couldn’t even ask to go to the restroom. Now, I raise my hand volunteering to present first in class. Ask any of my friends, and they’ll say I’m loud and funny. There are times, however, that I still feel insecure about my speaking skills and voice because of my subtle accent; but I’ve learned to appreciate those aspects of myself. In Spanish, my mother claims I’ve developed a bit of a white accent, which is ironic to me.

My entire family depended on my voice as soon as I mastered English, and they continue to depend on it. My parents typically remained reserved in various matters due to the fear of judgment, forcing me to step outside of my comfort zone for translating, writing, and reading. My younger sisters got used to me speaking up for them because I didn’t want for them to feel what I felt at a young age.  I can’t lie that I’m not jealous that my sisters had me. They entered kindergarten with no complications and never had to translate or worry what others may think of them. My voice is my source of strength because it’s enabled me to take charge of my life and emerge as a leader in my family, displaying my hard-earned growth and resilience. Truly, it’s a blessing.

My younger brother with autism has also played a role in the cultivation of my voice, as I help him find his voice every day. He lacks the ability to engage in a full conversation or even say small phrases. I do my best to assist him in writing and speaking, cherishing every tiny victory. It is through experiences like these that one truly understands the value of the “little things in life.” I realized that my voice is a “little thing” I take for granted, and I must display it in honor of my brother, family, and origins.

How did you find the courage and self-compassion to discontinue the IB program and tackle your Eating Disorder (ED) in spite of the pressure you had initially placed on yourself to push through at all costs?

Beatriz: Leaving the IB program made me feel like a failure at first because I held hidden expectations of myself. My whole life has been filled with reminders to become someone in life and demonstrate that Mexicans are diligent as well. My self-consciousness began to build its own rules throughout the years, and I was determined to be the “best.” According to my way of thinking, taking the most challenging courses meant I was on the right track.

I wanted my parents to acknowledge me even though I knew they didn’t know what IB was or what the difference was between a Cal State and a UC. At the same time, I was dealing with an eating disorder, reaching 82 pounds at 17 years old. I found myself spending hours after school studying and working on homework. Weekends were consumed with studying. The workload seemed never-ending, and slowly I was losing myself. I recognized the toll it was taking, but I felt trapped in the belief that IB was my only chance to be deemed “good enough” for college.

My mother was my greatest supporter as she noticed my struggles and how unrealistically I was pushing myself. One can never hide something from a mother. Every time I tried lying that I was fine and that I did eat, she was aware of my lies. She would constantly but gently urge me to take breaks and go out for walks, and she always asked what I wanted to eat. Despite my initial resistance, her persistence never wavered. Additionally, she often commenced long talks with me, prompting me to consider both my physical and emotional well-being and advising me not to feel inadequate or like a failure. However, I was in such denial that all I would respond with were yells to leave me alone and that it was my life. 

There was a day when my perspective shifted — a wake up call when I realized that IB wasn’t worth sacrificing my health and happiness. I looked at my mother’s teary red eyes begging me to stop it all. Para con esas classes difíciles y para de matarte (stop with those difficult classes and stop killing yourself) she said to me after the doctors warned me about getting hospitalized if I didn’t get better.

As the process started, she made sure I felt secure of myself, reminding me of how proud she felt. There were times we would scream in each other’s faces, but my mother never gave up on me. She helped me to make my appointments, got whipped cream for the Pediasure shakes, and even helped me study for my AP Spanish Lit exam. Every time I laughed or the scale went up, my mom would celebrate, expressing how pleased she was at my joy with school and my physical development.

Moreover, when my counselor learned about my alarming physical and mental health, she was able to enroll me in the AVID program, which offered support and guidance. I felt a sense of security, something I had never felt before as I surrounded myself with close friends and began new friendships. AVID became a community where one’s critical thinking, collaboration, organization, and speaking skills grew. There I was able to get work done during study halls and ask for aid during tutorial days. School became enjoyable where I didn’t need to worry every day about exams. Instead, I felt surprisingly excited going because I now had a balance between my classes and social life, allowing me to focus on my recovery, as well. I was especially grateful to Ms. Dang, my AVID teacher, who was there every step of the way. 

Finally, the most important thing that IB alongside my ED taught me was my own self-awareness. It took strength to recognize that the IB path wasn’t aligned with my well-being and I needed to put myself first. I attended therapy where I was able to express my fear of failing my own family and how stupid I felt for not being able to finish IB. I compared myself to others, as some played sports or even had jobs and were still able to deal with the stress of IB. Therapy became a refuge, where I confronted my fears and insecurities, learning to accept my body and my own accomplishments at school. Realizing that I do  “enough,” I am now proud to say that I’ll be attending UCI.

My greatest takeaway is to not bring yourself down when things don’t align right away; there is more time in life, so eventually you’ll get there. IB and ED showed me that I’m the greatest on my own terms, and I’m grateful for my journey.

What advice would you give to other teens whose difficult life circumstances and/or self-imposed standards of perfection begin to negatively impact their relationship with food? 

Beatriz: I believe that every pretty girl or boy, whether encountered in person or online, harbors the desire to emulate someone else’s appearance. It’s crucial to understand that such perfections are unattainable standards constructed by society. Celebrities and influencers usually get plastic surgery, as they feel peer pressure to fit in, but none of it is real. Instead, embrace your uniqueness and understand that your worth is not determined by your appearance.

You don’t want to become fixated over calories, scrutinizing nutrition labels and restricting eating habits. I, for instance, dropped a lot of weight — too much, in fact — to the point that extended family members started calling my parents asking if I was sick. Sick — I never wanted to achieve that. Additionally, I lost my menstrual cycle; experienced constant fatigue, hair loss, and muscle aches; and felt persistently cold. My wardrobe became incredibly baggy, and I felt trapped as I sought refuge in loose-fitting attire, exclusively wearing sweatpants and hoodies. This existence wasn’t happiness but rather a state of misery, leaving me feeling worse than ever. Rediscovering joy in life’s mundane pleasures like eating a piece of carrot cake or an ice cream cone on a hot summer day transformed into peace rather than fear.

To fellow teens who are young like me: don’t obsess about your figure because such preoccupations lead to self-damage and harm to those around you. Of course, you can take care of yourself by eating healthy, exercising, and having “cheat” meals once in a while. However, if you deeply know you need help, don’t feel shame to seek help, particularly when it comes to food. The longer you wait, the worse you’ll look and feel. Remember that food is a universal love that unites people together! Don’t deprive yourself. 

Also, if you’re struggling and don’t want help, this indicates that you truly need the help. I went through that denial, I thought I was “okay” when in reality I was just skin and bones. My nine-year-old sister and I at seventeen almost weighed the exact same weight, and I still had the audacity to tell my family they were liars. Furthermore, no matter how persistent one is, there is no satisfaction — a “flaw” will present itself in some form. That is why if you’re struggling, seek support from trusted friends, family members, or anyone whom you trust. Opening up about your feelings and experiences can help lighten the burden and provide you with valuable guidance.

Now more than ever, I find solace and contentment in eating what I want without fretting over the amount of sugar, grease, carbs, and calories. I feel and look better than ever. Seeing old pictures of myself makes me feel sorrowful that I ever thought I was imperfect. For more than a year, I didn’t have bread, sweets, my Mexican tortillas, and more. Food is food, and nothing else than fuel for our bodies.

Broadly speaking, how has the adversity you have overcome shaped the young woman you are today, and how do you foresee it impacting your future?

Beatriz: Adversity sculpted me into the resilient and strong woman I am today. Every obstacle, setback, and challenge has been a stepping stone. Instead of letting adversity defeat me, I’ve used each experience as a lesson in growth and empowerment. Through adversity, I’ve learned the value of perseverance and determination. It has taught me to embrace change, adapt to new circumstances, and find strength.

First, English enlisted a sense of resilience, determination, and adaptability as I navigated through the challenges of acquiring a new language. Shaping me into a more confident and capable girl, two elements of strength.

Second, my brother was diagnosed with autism at two years old, and he reshaped my understanding of empathy and patience. Through the challenges and joys of interacting with him, I’ve learned to appreciate the beauty of differences and the greater importance of acceptance. His presence has enriched my life by teaching me to see beyond words, to communicate. Instead, I learned to communicate through noises, sounds, touch, smells, and short phrases. My brother’s unique world has made me stronger by helping me become a better sibling, person, and overall human being.

Next, witnessing my parents’ conflictual relationship has been a complicated rollercoaster. I love my father and cherish him, but he isn’t always there affectionately. Whenever I think of him, a whirlwind of emotions surface — joy, sadness, hatred, love, and confusion. I believe my parents would be happier apart, especially seeing my mother’s suffering in their marriage. The love between them isn’t there, and hasn’t been present for a long time; although this ignited a passion within me for family law (though corporate law intrigues me, too). Their adversity has toughtend me, exposing me to the harsh realities of relationships and the cruelty of people.

Lastly, my eating disorder and IB were a swarm of bees I needed to face in order to love myself. I still struggle with food at times; the voices remain in the back of my head. I try to hide from them but never fully can. IB occasionally fills me with shame as part of me regrets not having kept going despite the constant breakdowns. ED forced me to confront my inner demons, to reevaluate my relationship with myself and food. From this darkness emerged a newfound appreciation for self-care and mental health advocacy. IB allowed me to discover the freedom to forge my own journey and to pursue passions outside of my own expectations. Both ED and IB created a stronger girl, a girl who can share such painful stories that yet were able to bring a new light in me.

Adversity has also shaped my future by fueling my ambition and drive. Instead of allowing challenges to hold me back, I’ve used them as motivation to strive for success. Every hurdle I’ve overcome has reinforced my belief in myself and my ability to overcome any obstacle in my path. Looking ahead, I see adversity not as a barrier, but as an opportunity for growth and transformation.

What three things does the world need more of?

Beatriz: The world needs more forgiveness. People tend to hold grudges against one another over the most simplistic things (or yes, sometimes it’s a grudge over a huge thing). Being angry at someone gets no one anywhere, but forgiveness liberates both the forgiver AND the forgiven — and particularly the forgiver who may be forgiving themselves! It brings a sense of tranquility as a cycle of resentment, revenge, and emotions is broken. Forgiveness heals wounds and creates a bridge of connection, especially as we live in a world filled with conflicts and misunderstanding. Next time, be that person to say “sorry,” and it’ll take you to new heights.

Next, the world needs more honesty. This includes being honest to yourself and others. The right people will accept that honesty even if it’s uncomfortable to hear. Even for yourself, accepting the truth can be challenging, but once you do, growth is the next step. Honesty means the true, authentic feeling and emotions which builds a foundation of trust. Be honest with others, and, as the verse goes, treat others the way you want to be treated.

Thirdly, the world needs more encouragement. It can come from a friend, family member, mentor, or yourself. It’s equally as important to have people’s backs as it is to need a helping hand because encouragement serves as a motivator to persevere through adversity. This creates a sense of confidence and empowerment, uplifting emotions and spirits. Encouragement can create such a positive change and progress in society overall. So don’t be negative to others or yourself, take those risks, have hope, and have fun with it!