In freshman year, I became captive to nicotine addiction. I found that through vaping, I could gain companionship, popularity, and a few moments of seemingly pure bliss. I was popular. I never found myself having no one to talk to or nothing to do after school. With a vape in my hand, I felt needed and important. For two years, this crowd I ran with was the most important thing in my life. Yet, something about me was different from them. I wasn’t as fearless as them. I wasn’t as confident. So, I got into fights, skipped school, and ended up being suspended. Twice. I remember thinking that that was as great as my life would ever get.

Now, as a junior, I understand that I mistook fearlessness for a lack of discipline and confidence as a mask to hide my misery. The crowd I ran with was fueled by self-hatred, addiction, and egocentrism. My popularity would end come graduation. The too few moments of seemingly pure bliss would become harder to come by, and I’d kill myself chasing it. The companionship I had had always been conditional and ran out when I had nothing more to offer than myself. Mrs. Blasi helped me realize this.

Mrs. Blasi taught my sophomore creative writing class. I joined the class due to my love of books and interest in writing. She saw something in me. Not with a vape in my hand or with my fists curled. She saw something in me — purely me.

Mrs. Blasi encouraged me to quit vaping. She assured me that I could do it, even when it seemed impossible. When I cut my friends out and suddenly had no one to sit with at lunch, her door was always open. When I was diagnosed with depression — not long after — she was my only confidant.

I have been sober for a year and I owe it to Mrs. Blasi — my teacher of the year — as much as myself.

I can recall the days that I stayed with Mrs. Blasi after school to write a contest submission for a local teen arts festival, a high fantasy short story. Adults don’t exactly approve when I tell them of my fantasy writing aspirations. Mrs. Blasi, however, has been my greatest supporter and teacher as I’ve been writing my novel. She gives me the strength to look the world straight in the eye and be confident in who I am and what I love.

When I think back to how I once thought that failing classes, sitting on the floor of a bathroom stall, and passing a vape around was the best my life would get, I want to cry.

I want to cry tears of joy that I met Mrs. Blasi. I want to thank her for saving me, for showing me that I have so much yet to accomplish in life, and for always encouraging my passions. I will forever be grateful that she saw something in me — purely me.