"I'm starting to get nervous. Really nervous," she admitted to me. She sounded shaky. 

We were moments from the stage, caps and gowns on, all lined up by number. I was #41 of about 80. Right in the middle, and apparently in the perfect place to talk someone down from an escalating panic attack. It was serendipitous. I can't find my keys half the time, but I manage anxiety like a boss. 

I reassuringly rubbed #42's shoulder. We had only just met a few minutes before, but when you're about to accomplish a life goal with someone, you tend to bond pretty fast. In the time we creeped up the line, we had done all but swapped spit and Christmas lists. I knew her story, she knew mine. And we both knew how important this was to each of us.

"It's okay" I said. "I'm nervous, too. That's why I have this on my wrist. I looked at it right before my last exam. I look at it when whenever I'm worried about my daughter. And I think we need to look at it right now." 

I lifted up the cuff of my gown to reveal the wrist tattoo I got last year. 

Breathe. 

Now, shine.

"Perfect," she said with a weak smile, and took a breath. I did, too. Others turned around in line to see what we were doing, looked down at my arm and spontaneously did the same. We all had a nervous laugh and faced forward again. It was almost time. People filed ahead of me one by one. 

And then, "Amanda Jetté!" they called from the stage. 

Breathe. 

They didn't even botch my French name. Impressive. Everyone in English Canada gets it wrong. I wouldn't have cared, but it was a nice bonus.

"Good luck!" said #42. I walked forward and the lights hit me. Shine.

***

The earlier part of the day was fraught with mixed emotions. I had gone for a hike a few hours before to sort them out, and pondered what it all meant with a rather tame deer who was grazing peacefully beside the trail.

"I'm feeling an odd mix of pride  and embarrassment. How does that make sense?" I asked the doe. She looked up from the tall grass she was munching on and gave me a quizzical look before going back to eating.

"It's like I'm ashamed that I didn't finish this a lot sooner and I feel silly about being so excited for my grad at 38 years old. And yet I'm also so proud of me for sticking it out and finally getting it done. Did you know it took me eight different high schools to do this? Eight!"

The doe gave zero fucks.

"The funny thing is that I wouldn't rate this as my biggest accomplishment this year. But it feels so important. It feels like I needed to get this out of the way, like it was psychologically blocking me from moving forward. So yeah, tonight is pretty huge."

The doe walked behind a bush and disappeared. 

When it comes to therapy, you get what you pay for. 

***

"THAT'S MY MOTHER!" my eldest yelled from the audience as I walked across the stage in heels I was sure were going to be my downfall. They were not, but it was close.

There was so much clapping, but what I heard most were the cheers of my children. And when I won the English award a few minutes later, they cheered even louder. 

They're usually telling me they hate what I'm making for dinner, so I soaked that shit in. 

I could have done it quietly, but I graduated this transparently for them. I never want my kids to live in shame for being different or making mistakes. I want them to know it's never too late to do what's important to you. I want them to understand that you don't have to walk the same path as everyone else to live a wonderful life. My life is incredible, in large part because I took the road less travelled. 

It was never my plan, but it's been a great journey so far. 

***

#42 and I got up and danced on stage at the end of the ceremony. It was her idea, and I'm nothing if not an excellent accomplice. I figured if I didn't go up there that night of all nights, I would regret it - and I'm tired of living with regrets. 

You only get one life - unless you believe in reincarnation. And then you might just come back as a deer who has to listen to emotionally conflicted hikers. That's so shitty.

So here's to accomplishments, both big and small. And to last Thursday, when I wore heels on stage and didn't even fall on my face. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to dust my English award. Again.