Mom was the one who showed up always. She worked extra shifts, cheered at every play
and somehow managed to send me on my school trip when Dad backed out for a bounce house.
By senior year, I stopped expecting anything from him.
So when he pulled the same stunt with my graduation party money, I was done

At graduation, he stood to walk me onstage until Mike, Mom’s boyfriend, stepped up instead
Dad lost it, shouting, but I calmly reminded him: he hadn’t been there for years.
I walked across the stage with someone who chose me, not out of guilt, but love.
For the first time, I wasn’t someone’s second choice I was someone’s daughter, fully and finally.