Hi, I’m Anusha and this is probably the hardest thing I have ever had to do: asking for help.

If you know me, you know that I have always been the one to figure things out on my own. But life had its own plan and here I am, learning to lean into faith and vulnerability.

After graduating with a master’s degree from the University of South Florida, I was hopeful, excited to build a future, pay off the huge loan I took for my education, and finally become financially independent. But months turned into over a year, and despite hundreds of job applications, unpaid internships, volunteering, and upskilling, I’m still unemployed. I have watched my friends move forward, getting jobs, settling down, while I’m stuck in the same place, feeling like I’m falling behind.

There was a time I was completely lost. I didn’t know where my life was headed or what would happen to my visa status once my OPT ran out. I didn’t know if I was failing because I lacked the right skills or because I didn’t know how to navigate interviews, present myself confidently, or because I just didn’t "fit the mold." All I had were questions, self doubt, and a growing fear that I might never find my place.

But in those darkest moments, I clung to the only light I could trust my faith. As a believer and follower of Jesus, I asked Him for direction. I panicked, I prayed, and I wondered if the path He had for me wasn’t the one I wanted. But Jesus is full of surprises, isn’t He?

Against all expectations, life is giving me a second chance and I’m about to begin a new journey: pursuing another master’s degree. I never imagined I would go for a second one, especially at this age. I thought my student days were behind me.

Before making this decision, I hesitated. A lot. Not because I didn’t want it, but because I didn’t know how I would afford it. How would I start over again in a new university with no financial support? I had already spent so much of my parents’ hard-earned money for my first Master's degree, and with the Indian rupee constantly falling against the dollar, every dollar costs them dearly.

When people saw that my parents were supporting me financially, some joked that I must be rich and didn’t have to worry about working. But what they didn’t realize is that being financially dependent at this stage of life was never what I wanted. My education, the time, effort, and dreams I poured into it often felt reduced to just a monetary value measured by how much my parents had to spend. I have always wanted to earn my own way to build a life where I can support myself with dignity and confidence, not just for survival, but for my self-respect.

I even remember telling one of my best friends about my decision. His brother found out and said, “Pagal hai wo?” ("Is she mad?") because apparently, doing a second master’s at 28 is crazy when “you should be getting married.”

Yes, I recently turned 28. The number itself feels heavy because I know what it means back home. The pressure to marry is real especially for women, not from my family, who have been incredibly supportive, but from society and friends. As if that were the only solution to my unemployment. It’s heartbreaking how society can so easily overlook a woman’s determination to create a future on her own terms. Just because I haven’t yet found a job, the default assumption became that I should marry someone who has. But I don’t want to rely on someone else because I have no choice, I want to be capable of providing for myself, through my own hard work and perseverance.

Here’s the thing: I believe marriage is beautiful. According to God, it’s a sacred and magical bond. But should I marry because I’m not able to support myself? Because I need a visa? Because society thinks I have failed?

A life partner is meant to share and support, not replace my independence. I want to walk alongside someone as an equal, not lean on them because I couldn’t stand tall on my own.

I may feel like a failure right now. But I’m not done. This “failure” is still showing up, still trying, still believing. I have learned so much this past year, not just about job markets and resume building, but about myself. I have learned what I missed the first time around: how critical it is to plan ahead, seek guidance, ask for help, attend every opportunity even if it doesn’t seem important at first.

This time, I’m walking into this new academic journey more prepared, more determined, and with my eyes wide open.

Right now, I have been admitted into Westcliff University, which is a private university. But I’m still actively searching for more affordable public universities because cost has been the most pressing factor for me. Of course, I do consider rankings, location, and the opportunities each program offers. But the reality is, even with a few acceptance letters in hand, I have had to pause because the financial burden has been too overwhelming to ignore.

The full tuition is above $30,000 for almost every school. Private schools don’t offer assistantships or on-campus jobs. Public universities, if I get accepted, might allow part-time work, but even that would only cover living expenses, not tuition.

So if you're wondering what your support would go toward: every single dollar raised will be used solely for tuition. Nothing else. This second master’s isn’t just another degree it’s a chance to up-skill my knowledge, strengthen my expertise, and become a stronger, more competitive candidate in the global job market. I don’t want a shortcut; I just want another shot with better preparation this time.

I have never valued money the way I do now. I have always been blessed by my parents’ support, but now I want to give back. I want to stand on my own. I don’t know if this is my weakest step or my strongest to ask for help. But here I am, a girl who once thought asking for help was weakness… asking anyway.

Not because I have given up, but because I’m not giving up.

If you can help me, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If you can’t, I completely understand. All I ask for is your prayers and your kindness.

One day, I’ll tell my children and grandchildren this story not as a tale of struggle, but as proof that Jesus was there, every step of the way. That when life knocked me down, I got back up. That the kindness of others became the bridge between my breakdown and my breakthrough.

From the depths of my heart, thank you.