I dreaded moving to the junior and senior campuses from the sophomore and freshman campus at Arrowhead. I didn't think I was ready, I believed I was going to fail, and most importantly I didn't want to leave my old art teacher. I told myself I wouldn't be vulnerable with any of my teachers because it hurt when I had to leave them.

A few months into school, I was drained from my fingertips to my toes. I had no energy left. I finally understood what my sister meant when she talked about junior year burnout, and I was only three months in. 

The Monday before Thanksgiving break, I fought with my mom and she said something that would normally roll off my back, and I thought it had. Driving to school replaying the conversation trying to get it out of my head but failing to do so. 

To distract myself, I went to Mrs. Lind’s (my parenting teacher) office. I spent most of my mornings telling her about the drama from the day before. Today though, I didn't want to go to talk to her, but I wanted to go because it’s the only place I felt safe in school. 

I walked into her office and looked in her pod immediately breaking down into tears. For the first time that school year, I felt safe enough to let my guard down, and show emotions. Standing up crying, she approached me pulling me into a hug, which she didn't know was the first one I had received from anyone in over a month. She never knew that she saved my life that day, and gave me something to hold on to.

She rubbed my back and said, “It's alright—this will pass, you’re okay.”

Hearing these words before from others I’d typically scoff like you're telling a child in a breakdown that it’s alright, really? This time though, hearing her say everything was alright, I’d be okay. I believed her, something about her gave off the vibes of “you can trust me I've got you.”  

Eventually, I could explain and tell her about the fight my mom and I had, and instead of typing on her computer like other teachers have done when I would talk to them, she sat and listened to what I had to say. Like really listened. For the first time that school year I felt safe enough to open up to a teacher. She reminded me that I wasn't a problem and that the words my mom said weren't true.

She made me feel safe so I felt safe in school for the first time since freshman year. By being herself and opening her arms and ears to me that day, I have a place in the school where I’ll always feel safe. I have told her that she was special but I dont think I've ever told her just HOW special she is, so Mrs. Lind, thank you for saving me that day.