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The medal felt heavy in my palm - not from its bronze weight, but from what it represented. Twenty-three years of service condensed into two inches of metal and ribbon. Mom would've polished it daily, just like she did Dad's before him.

When I was 14, I broke my arm at gymnastics practice. My mom was at a wine tasting with her friends. The coach called her three times before she picked up. She just said "Take her to urgent care, I'll sign the papers tomorrow."

When I was 12, I fell down the stairs at my grandmother's house and broke my arm in three places. My dad was at a business meeting and told the hospital to just set it without him. I remember the nurse looking more concerned than he was.

When I was 12, I broke my arm at gymnastics practice. My dad was supposed to pick me up, but he was at a business dinner. The coach called three times before my stepmom finally came, two hours later, complaining about missing her book club.

She arrived in Hollywood with nothing but dreams and determination. The parties, the connections, the carefully crafted image - it was all part of her plan. Her family back home watched from afar, their concerns growing with each passing day, as she transformed from their small-town girl into someone they barely recognized.

When I was 12, I fell down the stairs at school and broke my arm in three places. The nurse called my mom at her yoga class, and she said she'd come after her session was done. I sat there for two hours before my neighbor picked me up.

When I was 12, I broke my arm at gymnastics practice. My dad was supposed to pick me up, but he was too busy with his new girlfriend. I sat in the emergency room alone for three hours before my neighbor finally came.

When I was 14, I collapsed during track practice. The coach called my parents three times before anyone answered. My dad was at a business dinner and just said "Take her to the hospital if you need to, send me the bill."