After 25 years, The Oprah Show is ending today. I’m sure I’ll cry. That show always makes me cry. Oprah is a mentor figure to many; She’s our Obi-Wan Kenobi. She’s given us the tools and the courage to seek out happiness and to express our authentic selves. Now that the show is going off-air, we’ll have to continue our journey of self-actualization on our own.

Sure, Oprah Winfrey is a household name, but she’s an extra big deal in our household. My parents Nancy Hamilton and Chip Babcock have been two of her lawyers since 1998. I was a freshman in high school when a group of Amarillo cattlemen sued the talk show queen for defamation after she said on air that she’d never eat beef again. I let Oprah borrow my mom for six weeks so she could sit beside her in a West Texas courthouse. I stopped whining when I got to skip school to fly out to visit. I like to think of it as an extreme version of Take Your Daughter to Work Day.

I met Oprah very briefly and snuck a glance at the legal pad Oprah scribbled notes to my mom on. (I thought it was so cool that Oprah and Mom passed notes in court like Alyce and I did in geography class). From the back of the courthouse, I watched my mom’s law partner, my future stepdad, Chip Babcock, give his momentous closing argument. The jury sided with Oprah and the First Amendment in cattle country. It was a big deal.

Shortly after Oprah stood victorious on the Texas courthouse steps, she gave my mother a “thank you” gift. You’ve seen Oprah’s Giveaways, so you can imagine. Oprah gave my mother a destination spa experience. Any woman on her show would have fainted at the opportunity. Not Nancy. Months and months went by. Oprah would inquire and my mother would admit, that no, she hadn’t gone yet. She was swamped at work; she couldn’t get away. Anyone who watches the show knows that Oprah doesn’t like it when a woman has a hard time accepting gifts or doing something nice for herself. It’s an Oprah pet peeve. (I’m happy to report Mom eventually went to the spa and let herself enjoy it).

I watched more Oprah post-college. I wanted answers. Oprah always says, “Dream Big!” I had no trouble with that. I was in search of how I could I find self-worth without external validation. I moved to Los Angeles to pursue acting. But it was tough. I wasn’t getting cast. I wasn’t getting auditions. I wasn’t getting a paycheck. I was paying too much for classes, headshots, and highlights. I seemed to scrounge up validation by being asked out by jerks who wore dry-cleaned jeans. My parents were Oprah’s lawyers and I was watching Oprah at the gym on weekday afternoons.

It seems counterintuitive that I would turn to Oprah, the most successful woman in America, to teach me how I could learn to love a life regardless of professional success. But her show and magazines were cheaper than therapy and less sweaty than Yoga. And, it actually helped.

The best gift Oprah gave me was when she encouraged viewers to make vision boards a few years ago. (It seemed simple enough: you glue images, words, and mantras that you want to attract into your life onto a board.) I invited girlfriends over for a “Pajama, Potluck, Vision Board” party. I bought foam poster boards, scissors, rubber cement, and asked my girlfriends to bring all of their old magazines.

The process of making the board was a lesson all its own. I worried over whether the board should be horizontal or vertical. I felt bad that I was overlapping images in a haphazard manner. My girlfriends’ seemed to have a psycho precise grid-like system down for creating their collages. (If you throw a party like this, maybe don’t invite your perfectionist friends or at least get them drunk first).

I was slower than everyone else, the last to finish. But, in the end, I loved my vision board because it was uniquely mine. It includes a photo of kids jumping in a lake, a drawing of Dorothy staring at the Emerald City, a photo of me (in curlers) standing with my bridesmaids in our pajamas, a map of Italy, and the phrases “Brighten Up”, “Grow”, and “Tour de Force.” Every time I look at it, I feel better. I’m grateful for all the beautiful people and experiences I have had in my life. I am grateful for my messy process. And I am thankful for a future ripe with possibility.

Thanks Oprah for teaching me over the years that my life can be more than my accomplishments or my paycheck; I’m learning that it’s about the friends I surround myself with, the books I read, the knowledge I acquire, the things I’m passionate about, and the journey itself. I don’t have it mastered yet. I’m a work in progress. But maybe in 25 years…

Follow Ellie’s attempts to get back on her feet, figuratively and literally, after her recent surgery on her blog (ellieknaus.com)