Fact: I am horrible at math.
I'm sure I mentioned it before how in college my freshmen year I got 17% on a math midterm and my teacher wrote “good improvement” on my exam, because it was.
I was always told that if I tried harder, studied longer, asked more questions, that I would improve. So I tried. I sat in the front row, never missed a class, had tutors and a calculator so complex I’m sure I could have used it to beam aboard the Endeavour spacecraft.
And I still failed.
Because I’m just not the girl who can do long division in her head without looking like she’s in physical pain.
I’m also not the girl who remembers to pick up her dry cleaning on time. I’m not the girl who can eat spaghetti without spilling it, nor am I the girl who can build a bookcase without have at least 7 leftover parts. I’m not the girl who can cook lobster to perfection, hit a baseball out of the park or sew anything more complicated than a straight line.
I’m not a girl who is able to quit a job without feeling like she failed. I’m not a girl who is able to bite her tongue when she’s mad, remember an umbrella when it looks like rain or can stop from crying at a wedding.
No matter how hard I tried to become her, the girl I’m not is the girl I will never be. And I’m okay with that. Because sometimes knowing what you can’t do- what you will never do, what you don’t want to do, allows you to appreciate everything you can do, and everything you are. Because what I see now is when I add up all the things I’m not, they will never measure who I am.
I’m still bad at math, the only difference is that I can now fully appreciate how excellent I am at so much else. I may not be able to do long division in my head but I can give a goodbye toast that will knock your socks off. I can’t multiply by 13 in rapid fire, but I can ride a horse, write a play, make the best chicken tetrazzini you will ever have. I can’t recite pi to 14 places (only 12, and this was learned only out of boredom) but I can spend an entire day with 20 kids who all want to be pirates and not kill myself, in fact- I will enjoy myself.
I’m not a girl who can apply the mathematical “FOIL” rule as quickly as others, but I can drive a muscle car in tall girl shoes.
And that seems like a good improvement.
