His deal was clear. Support and responsibility. He would support me until I went to college, but after that, I would have to be responsible for my own life. He would give me his support and my freedom, but I was responsible for the choices I’d make. I will never forget one time when this responsibility arrangement felt like the last thing I needed or wanted. I felt I needed help—big-time help—not responsibility. It was the summer of my freshman year in college, and I was at home in Mississippi for the