As I made the transition to North campus (juniors and seniors) from Arrowhead High’s South campus (freshmen and sophomores), reality hit me. I would no longer have Mrs. Whyte to talk to. I would be assigned a new guidance counselor for the remaining two years. I would no longer be able to run to her office if I had a problem, if I needed a break, or even if I just needed someone to talk to. She became a friend—and someone I looked up to. Regardless of the obstacle I was facing, she brought light to every situation and gave me the best advice she could.  I was near convinced she was my mom in disguise.

I had talked to her previously—about switching classes, or my plans for the future but never about anything personal. That was before my sophomore year. Less than a week before prom and less than a week before my sixteenth birthday, I found out—in the hallway four minutes before the first bell rang—my boyfriend, of almost a year had cheated on me.

I knew I couldn’t show up to my first hour class with mascara pouring down my cheeks, so I walked into the guidance office. I felt out of place walking in and asking for help, but I needed someone to talk to. I felt foolish, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

Mrs. Whyte was not in her office. I didn’t want to bother her, so I insisted I was fine. But the receptionist was persistent on calling her down—she must have been sick of hearing me sob. Within ten minutes of the call, Mrs. Whyte was standing in front of me. I could hear the worry in her voice: “Honey, what happened?”

Then, it hit me. She didn’t only care about my future plans, my grades, and how many days I missed. Mrs. Whyte cared about me and my well-being.

As we talked, she never made me feel ridiculous for how I felt or what I said. She never pushed me to get back to class or made me feel out of place. There was no judgment.

I talked to her for almost three hours that day. And we not only talked about me, but we also talked about her. It was no shock to me that she was a mom. She looked like one—her short black hair and big white smile, always friendly and welcoming—it also helped that she had family pictures plastered around her office. Her children shared her beaming smile.

Friday, April 17—one day before my birthday—I was called to Mrs. Whyte’s office. I was unsure of myself as I slowly walked down to her office. What could she possibly want? Regardless of my uneasy thoughts, I walked into the office with my head held high. The entire guidance staff was waiting for me.

“You have had a rough week!” Mrs. Whyte said as she handed me a bouquet of flowers. “Happy birthday!”

I was in awe. I have never had someone go out of there way to make me feel better in the ways that she did.

She has taught me that it is okay to trust the people around you. They are around you for a reason. I strongly believe that everyone has a purpose and nothing happens by accident.

As I wrap up my senior year, I am still in awe at the kindness Mrs. Whyte has shown me over the years. Moral of the story, do not be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. You’ll be glad you did.  

Parts of this article were previously published by Story Monsters Ink