My dad once tried to serve my mom divorce papers at my 8th grade graduation. That was the moment I knew my life was never going to be “normal.” I still remember the heat that day—one of those early summer afternoons where everyone’s too sweaty to be comfortable and too excited to care. I was supposed to be focused on walking across the stage, shaking hands, and smiling for pictures. But all I could think about was the fact that both of my parents were in the audience… and how that had never ended well before. Sure enough, my dad showed up with a manila envelope tucked under his arm. My mom, wearing sunglasses inside like she was hiding from paparazzi, refused to sit anywhere near him. When I finally spotted them during my walk across the stage, he was being escorted out by security because he’d tried to slip the papers into her purse. She didn’t notice until after I got my diploma. Their divorce was less like a breakup and more like an ongoing reality show, full of cliffhangers and plot twists. One week, they were negotiating visitation calmly over coffee. The next, they were yelling through car windows in the school parking lot. I became fluent in legal jargon before I learned how to drive. “Joint custody,” “mediation,” “restraining order”—these were just part of my everyday vocabulary. By high school, I had become a full-time emotional translator. I was the go-between, the peacemaker, the one who remembered who had what weekend and who needed to be texted two hours in advance. I learned how to manage tension like a pro. I knew when to be invisible and when to step in. But more than anything, I learned how to pretend everything was fine, even when it wasn’t. It affected my high school experience in ways I didn’t always realize at the time. I was constantly juggling emotions that weren’t mine, and sometimes, it left little space for my own. I avoided inviting people over—not because I didn’t want to hang out, but because I never knew what version of my parents would be home. I chose group projects carefully, knowing I might not be reachable on certain weekends if someone took my phone away out of spite. But I also became incredibly self-sufficient. I learned how to motivate myself, manage time, and take care of things without needing reminders. That chaos forced me to grow up early, but it also gave me a deep understanding of resilience. I don’t fold under pressure, because pressure is something I’ve lived with daily. I don’t give up when things get messy—I’ve been surviving mess my whole life. More importantly, I’ve learned how to build peace where there isn’t any, and how to carry myself with grace even when everything around me feels out of control. Their divorce might’ve started at my graduation, but it shaped the person I became all throughout high school. And honestly? I’m proud of that person.