Today, one of my students opened up to me. She's very quiet and reserved, but I can usually get her to talk and share things with me. But I wasn't prepared for today.
She was telling me about her dad, who is an alcoholic. And how he has never been there for her, doesn't show up when he says he will and, most recently, left her a voicemail where he called her a fucking bitch and told her she wasn't his daughter anymore.
He was drunk.
It was hard to hear her story. It was harder to listen to the voicemail when she played it for me.
This is me and my dad:
I'm so lucky.