My name is Eric Vasquez, and I’m 18 years old, living in Orange County. For the past three years, I’ve carried the weight of the world on my shoulders, struggling to survive, build a future, and heal from a past I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

When I was 17, I ran away from home. Growing up in a house filled with fear and pain, I endured years of domestic abuse and sexual abuse. My parents weren’t the kind, supportive figures every child dreams of—they were my greatest source of suffering. I tried to endure it for as long as I could, convincing myself that things might get better, but the day came when I realized that staying meant losing myself completely. With just a backpack, a few clothes, and $20 in my pocket, I left the only home I’d ever known.

At first, I slept wherever I could—parks, bus stops, and, if I was lucky, a friend’s couch. Nights were cold and lonely, and hunger was a constant companion. I’d stare at the stars, wondering why life had to be this hard and why I had to fight so much just to feel safe. But even then, I knew I couldn’t give up.

I’ve always believed in education, in the idea that knowledge could be my ticket to a better life. I enrolled in college, determined to make something of myself, but paying for tuition, books, and transportation was another battle. Financial aid only stretched so far, and without support from my family, I had to find another way.

I work three jobs now. By day, I’m a barista, making coffees and drinks for people like you with a smile on my face even when my feet ache. In the evenings, I stock shelves at a grocery store, lifting heavy boxes and counting down the hours until my shift ends. On the weekends, I work as a night host doing building coverage in one of the on-campus halls. Between shifts, I squeeze in classes, assignments, and studying, often working through the night with barely any sleep.

Some days, it feels impossible. Balancing work, school, and life without a stable home is exhausting. I’ve learned to hide my struggles, to pretend everything is fine, but the truth is, I’m tired. I’m so tired of fighting alone.

Still, I push forward. I dream of becoming someone my younger self would be proud of, of proving to myself that I’m more than the circumstances I was born into. Every dollar I save goes toward tuition or a future where I won’t have to live like this anymore.

I know I’m not the only one struggling. There are countless others like me, young people fighting to survive in a world that feels stacked against us. But I also know that hard work, determination, and hope can move mountains.

This is my story. It’s not a happy one—not yet. But one day, I hope to look back and see how far I’ve come. I’m Eric Vasquez, a homeless youth, a full-time college student, and a fighter. And I refuse to give up.