Ashes to Black Belt Until 2015, almost every decision in my life was made for me by someone else. From my earliest memories, my success was defined by how well I performed for others—how perfectly I met the expectations they set for me. When I was two years old, my mother placed a tiny violin in my hands and told me that her dream was for me to become a famous violinist. From that moment on, my life unfolded like a score I never got to write. I was treated like a wind-up virtuoso china doll: to be seen and not heard. Trotted out to perform at every family occasion without regard for my feelings or desires. I was expected to be perfect, submissive, docile. And I was. The few times I asked to quit violin, I was immediately dismissed. Everyone assumed I must secretly love it if I was so good at it. My childhood revolved entirely around music—no sports, no free play, no unrelated activities. By middle school, I was waking up at 5 a.m. daily to practice violin and piano before school,...