Then came Mr. Anderson, the math teacher who saw a version of me I didn’t yet recognize. He gave me harder problems, offered his classroom as refuge, and pushed me toward schools I believed were out of reach. Slowly, the impossible began to take form.
When the acceptance letter came—a full ride, housing, everything—it felt like the first sunrise after a long winter. At graduation, I finally told the truth: about the bullying, the hiding, the lies I told to protect her. I told the gym who my mother really was. Continue reading…
