I’ve found that the most meaningful growth happens when I put myself in unfamiliar situations.

When I was 17, I crossed the Mexican border alone and rode 100 miles through the desert with a guide named Waldo. I came back changed—not because of the adventure itself, but because of what I learned from being fully outside my comfort zone. I learned that strangers can become mentors, that independence creates confidence, and that doing what’s unfamiliar often leads to the clearest perspective.

I’ve always been drawn to challenges—not just to prove I can do something, but to see who I become in the process.

At age 13—after what was probably more begging than convincing—my parents finally agreed to let me have a chainsaw, with one caveat: I’d be the sole provider of firewood for the fireplace that winter. (It wasn’t really to heat the whole house, but it felt like it.) Whether it’s cutting wood, learning to land a backflip, or turning meal prepping into a daily ritual, I’ve learned that consistency builds confidence—and small efforts can have real impact over time.

Early on, my varsity spots on the golf and track teams introduced me to older teammates. I’ve always connected with people ahead of me in age, and those friendships helped me develop a different lens on high school. I started to see the road ahead more clearly—what mattered, what didn’t, and how to take in advice before I actually needed it.

I’ve carried that mindset into everything—from competing at DECA states in the middle of Boston’s corporate energy, to traveling through Italy and noticing how other cultures define things like joy, work, and connection.

Every new environment offers something: a lesson, a contrast, a mirror.

What drives me is simple: I want to keep learning. Not just from school or books, but from the world, from people, and from experience. If being named after da Vinci taught me anything, it’s that growth isn’t about achievement—it’s about staying in motion.

That’s where I plan to stay.