When the world you knew comes crashing down around you, what are you supposed to do? When your mom looks at you with tears in her eyes saying she can't do it anymore, what are you supposed to do? When you move out of your childhood home and move schools, what are you supposed to do?

I didn't know. I had no clue what was happening--I was 10. How was I supposed to know what divorce meant? How was I supposed to handle being thrown into an adult situation while I was already panicked about going to middle school?

What makes it worse is when your mom comes home with another guy, who isn't your father, the guy you grew up with. At first, you panic. Who is he? Why is he here? What is he doing with my mother? My mom and I were best friends, conjoined at the hip--who was he to take her from me?

I was wrong. Boy, was I wrong. So here's a letter to my step-dad, my dad.

Dear Step-Dad,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never gave you a chance; a fair, equal chance. I compared you to my father, and thought you were stealing my mother. I was afraid I was losing her. Sometimes, I still am afraid. I'm sorry I tried to call you a murderer (because movies warped my reality). I'm sorry I was a moody teenager, even when you were nice to me--I was rude.

But thank you. Thank you for showing my mother what it was to be truly loved. Thank you for showing me what it means to have a dad. I had a father for the first time. Someone who was always around, because it was required and convenient. I originally had a father who didn't care about me as a person and treated my mother like a slave. But you were different. You showed us kindness, love, what it meant to be equals in a family, and for that, I'll never be able to repay you.

You made my mom smile and laugh and cry. You showed us what it was like to be able to have enough and be perfectly content. For that, I will never be able to tell you how much that meant to me. You treated my mom like the queen she is, and only you could have done that.

See, we're a lot alike, you and I. You were afraid of being a dad and I was afraid of having one. We worked it out, but we had our differences. We fought, we laughed, we loved, you walked me down the aisle. It took me a while, it took me realizing you weren't there to take my mom away, you were there to love and support us. But when I came to the realization that you weren't going anywhere--that's when I knew you were my dad.

You were more of a dad to me than my own flesh and blood. It's been nine years since the divorce, and I've talked to him maybe three times. You bug me every day. You love me, you let me make mistakes, you support me, you came to every sporting event, you asked me how school was and listened when I needed you.

You were exactly what my mom and I needed. You realized we were close, and you respected that. You were just there to be a part of our lives. We were a family. You respected me as a human being and I in turn respected you. You were proud of me and picked me up when I was down. You helped me find my love for "Lord of the Rings." You taught me what a man should be to a woman. You showed me what it means to be a husband and a dad. In turn, I found the same in my husband. You're the reason I found my husband. How you treated my mom was the way I wanted to be treated, so when I found that in a guy, I kept him close and never let go.

I'm sorry for never giving you a chance at the beginning, and I wish I could take that back. Maybe we'd have more memories than we already do, but I still cherish and love the memories we have. It's nice knowing that while I'm at college, you're taking care of my mom like she should be taken care of. It's nice knowing that she's in capable hands, and nice knowing that I don't have to worry about her--because you're there for her. I could never thank you enough for that.

But most importantly: I love you, dad.

Now and forever,

Your Little Girl.