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This article had me in tears. I grew up so poor I often didn't have shoes and wore dollar-store flip flops in the winter. Deadbeat dad, opiate addict mother. I was shuffled constantly from relative to relative, friend's house to friend's house. I had some very supportive teachers, including one who paid for my AP tests and SATs. I got an offer to a university in the UC system. Life was looking up! In the last semester of my senior year, my stepmom kicked me out of my dad's house. I shuffled back and forth between friends' houses, too embarrassed to explain the situation to an adult. I had to sleep rough a few times and got pneumonia from not having a whooping cough vaccination. I coughed so hard my ribs cracked. I missed a class where I had to turn in a midterm, my teacher wouldn't accept it late ("you kids always make up excuses"), I couldn't get a doctor's note because I hadn't been to the doctor. Welp, failed the class. The university rescinded my admission for the failed grade. I lost all my scholarships. I ended up bouncing around homeless shelters for a few months while I recovered my health. Eventually, I went to community college, transferred to a top 10 university. Now I work at Amazon as an SDE and make well over six figures. Happy ending, right? Well, no -- for years, I blamed myself for "blowing" that university opportunity. I felt horrible. I felt so ashamed. |