FROM SAGE TO SAVED

CAMPUS!!!!!

I never thought my life could change so quickly. Until then, everything seemed to fit perfectly, like a well-worn puzzle where every piece knew its place. I was surrounded by kindness, raised by people who gave me more than care—they gave me purpose. And my mother? She was more than a parent; she was my ally, my confidant, my best friend. There wasn't a single rumor, secret, or thought I didn't rush to tell her. It didn't matter if it was something trivial about my friends or a more intimate confession about my life—she always listened.

But beneath this cheerful surface, another story was quietly unfolding, one I shared with no one except her. My real dad lingered at the edges of my life, a shadow whose influence stretched farther than I cared to admit. We had secret contact, an unspoken bond. Mom, ever the tactician, had her own reasons for encouraging me to stay in touch with him. She taught me how to charm him, how to subtly win his favor. Not out of malice, but survival. He could send money from where he was, and she wanted to secure my future.

I didn't question her motives then. Life was good. I was happy. But happiness is a fragile thing, and the day I was called to campus, the cracks began to show.

It was a dream university. The kind of place most people work their entire lives to get into. For me, though, it felt different. A strange sense of foreboding crept in, as if this wasn't the beginning of a new chapter but the start of a battle I wasn't prepared to fight. Let's call it Rebelde—that's what the place felt like to me. A battleground where my dreams and my family's expectations would collide.

Mom broke the news first. She couldn't afford my fees. Her voice cracked as she admitted it, her strength faltering for the first time in my life. My guardians, who had always been there in the background, passed the burden to my real dad. And then he stepped forward—not with hesitation, but determination.

He had a plan, a vision for my future that wasn't my own. He offered me a deal that sounded too good to be true: a course of his choosing, a life of comfort, a chance to live abroad. Everything glittered like gold, but in its shine, I saw something else. A future where my dreams were traded for convenience. A version of myself I didn't recognize, trapped in someone else's vision.The problem wasn't just the deal—it was the history. The two sides of my life, my mother and my father, had never been on good terms. They didn't just disagree; they clashed like storms colliding in the same sky. And now, I was in the middle, forced to pick a side.

Making decisions had never been my strong suit, but I had something else—a quiet sense of discernment, a gift from being raised by a bishop. I knew how to tell right from wrong, even when the lines blurred.

Two paths lay before me. The first was risky, uncertain, but it was mine. A chance to live my dream, even if it came with struggle, sweat, and countless sacrifices. The second was a golden platter handed to me, shining so brightly it almost blinded me. But when I looked closer, I didn't see love or freedom. I saw chains disguised as opportunity.

So, I chose the first path.The fallout was swift and brutal. My dad, furious at my rejection, cut me off entirely. He stopped speaking to me, his anger a wall I couldn't climb. Mom, hurt and bewildered, lashed out in ways I didn't expect. She called me names, accused me of throwing away a life most could only dream of. I didn't blame her. She wanted me to have a better life than she did, to live a story she could be proud of. But I couldn't let my story be written by someone else. I had to show her—and myself—that I could carve my own path.

Their silence hurt more than their words ever could. Anger simmered in me, an ache that refused to go away. I felt abandoned by both sides, caught in a battle where no one cared what I wanted. My guardians, unprepared for the chaos, scrambled to find a way to send me to campus. Everything happened so fast, and by God's grace, they managed to piece something together.That morning, as Bishop drove me to campus, we prayed. The air was heavy with uncertainty. There wasn't enough money to cover the fees, but we drove anyway, clinging to faith. I remember staring out the window, tears streaming down my face. Pity, anger, and fear swirled together in my chest, spilling over in silent sobs.And yet, beneath the storm of emotions, there was a flicker of hope. A quiet voice that reminded me of one truth: the God Bishop served never disappoints.