I can hardly write this without tearing up.

Most of the free world knows that Oprah taped her last show this past week, and I am terribly and completely and wholeheartedly sad—through my mind, body, and soul.

In all seriousness, I am an intelligent, confident and comfortable mother of three in my mid-30s who really is not sure how she’ll move forward after Oprah’s farewell season.

There. I said it.

I. feellikeOprahismyrealbestfriend.

I really do.

So when the show’s over, and I don’t have a lineup of Oprah shows on the DVR ready for a tired me and my glass of wine at the end of the week, I’m going to be really, really sad. Like a best pal just packed up and left. Like my pooch ran away. Like a breakup with my high school boyfriend. Like I lost my favorite jean jacket. Like no coffee in the morning.

Oprah was right there with me, walking alongside me through my teen years until now. Twenty years.  So it’s natural, for a gal who has a difficult time with change, to experience this feeling of loss—I know it is.

When my world shifted, and I went away to college, Oprah was there. I bonded with new friends over "Oprah" episodes, and from Oprah, we learned to trust our instincts, to never let an abductor take us to a second location, and we learned that we had to talk about these things with our own children. From Oprah, my college pals and I  were reminded to appreciate our education. Together, we vowed never to wear "mom jeans," to control our own destiny and to recognize that all women—everywhere—were connected.

After college, "Oprah" was the one constant in my brand-new life as a teacher, when I moved close to the Nation’s Capital and taught high school English. I looked forward to watching "Oprah" in the evenings, thanks to a trusty VCR, and during this time I learned how to balance my work and personal life. I learned to save money for me as well as budget to pay off my student loans and credit card bills. I learned first-hand how difficult teaching was, and I so appreciated that Oprah valued my hard work. Some days—some really challenging days—knowing how Oprah felt about teachers got me through.

As I prepared for my wedding, I watched "Oprah." As a newly-married woman, I watched Oprah. I saw dangerous, destructive relationships on "Oprah;" I saw positive, strong, and healthy relationships on "Oprah." I saw Dr. Phil working with couples and reminding them about the importance of communication, care, and friendship. I met Rachel Ray, Dr. Oz and Nate Berkus.

As I prepared for childbirth, I watched "Oprah." As a new mother, I watched "Oprah." I saw the chaos that new moms experience, and it stuck. I saw mothers who suffered from post-partum depression, and it stuck. I saw mothers who lost themselves to their families, who forgot who they were, and who never looked in the mirror because they couldn’t. And it stuck. I saw Oprah say over and over and over that being a stay-at-home mother is the hardest job in the world. And it stuck. For some strange reason, her confirmation of my own feelings—though she was never a teacher or a mother herself—made me feel stronger.

As I continue my walk into parenting, into my marriage, into myself and my 30s, I watch "Oprah." Through laughter and tears, I see people overcoming more than they ever thought they could, more than I can ever imagine. I see places I want to go, people I want to meet and goals I hope to reach. I see the importance of my family and friends. I see the importance of thinking about others, looking out for others, being cautious of others, and in always celebrating literacy. I see the importance of feeling good, of looking good. I see the importance of me. And it all sticks.

It sticks because at each point in my life, Oprah—and these women—were singing my song, they were speaking to me. And though Oprah and I are completely different human beings, from completely opposite backgrounds, Oprah speaks to the commonalities among us all.

She’s looked out for me, supported me and cheered for me for the last 20 years. I’m going to miss her.