I was broken before I ever knew it
My childhood, a blur of my mom busting ass to support us and keep me happy
I was happy
I was happy, until I realized I was broken.
My senior year of high school, senior breakfast. I got some bullshit scholarships my mom forced me to apply for.

Afterwards, my AP calc teacher, my role model, my friend. Told me he was proud of me.
That when he saw me receive my scholarships that I worked so hard for he felt “like a proud dad”. He was in the front row.
That’s when I realized I was broken. Without ever knowing it. This small line in an email broke my heart.
I knew I had the most supportive mom, the best mom. A mom who packed my lunches and kept a roof over my head for years. 18 years. With no help. But in reading that simple email. I realized I was broken.
Tossed aside.

Desperate for approval. Masculine approval. Approval that comes from a dad. Or step dad. Or really, honestly, any consistent male in my life.
At my senior breakfast I didn’t realize it. I was busy basking in my accomplishments that my mom worked so hard for me to achieve.
Later, I realized it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough. Nothing I do is.
Making my calculus teacher proud was the best thing I had ever done. Getting that approval was the best thing I had ever done.

So I sought after it. I looked hard. For more masculine approval. And in every failed relationship. Toxic relationship. Abusive relationship. I never found what I needed.

Really all I needed was a teacher. My mother. Myself. A strong person to approve of my accomplishments. And lead me to where I am now.

A teacher. A consistent adult. Who wants nothing more than for her students to feel accomplished and appreciated. To feel less broken. And realize who they are is enough.