Memories.

I guess this is a free flow writing session today.  There was an incident this week that made me think deeply about what it is to be different, and to always feel the need to play down who or what I am.

What I am… what I am… What I am…

I contacted the district that first administered the iq test on me.  My parents were immigrants, they did not understand the tests… what it implied.  They just knew it was a good thing, something others wanted their children in.  I made the cut… yay.

For starters… I learned to read on my own.  I asked expansive questions, enjoyed puzzles, strategies, stimulation.  I knew how to read before kindergarten… self-taught I suppose?  Or maybe it was the hours of sing-along.  I always thought I just happened to be stronger in the reading.. writing.. manusha…

Turns out… that is incorrect.  My scores indicated the exact opposite, which actually makes more sense… I scored highly in the non verbal/ spatial area.  I feel like I just got dumped on… have I been mistaken my entire life?  Trying to force something that wasn’t there? lol.  My whole life, people have asked me what I like… what I want to do.. and to that I’ve always responded, “I like everything.  I like problem solving… I like strategy.”  In which most people look at me awkwardly and say, “So… do you want to be a doctor or what?”

After going to college, and being removed from my gifted peers, I struggled immensely.  Why do we have to learn the small items?  Shouldn’t we know the general role or impact of mitochondrial mutations so that we can understand why we need to know the thirty step process of glycolysis and ATP?  “No.  You need to know the 30 steps not the rest. You’ll learn the rest in med school.” Every day in college felt like that.  In the gifted programs I was allowed to connect the dots so I could understand how the smaller steps led to the greater picture.  It encouraged me to understand the concept better.  In society, the workforce, and college – it doesn’t matter.  So I’ve struggled.  I am “successful” by all American means… but I struggle everyday.

A few months ago, my husband told me to stop playing myself down.  He said, “You’ve tried hiding your intelligence for years to accommodate others insecurities in the workforce and in academia.  Why not just be you and not have to hide it?” I was like, “Whoa! You’re right!”  So I did it… guess what?

They told me to slow down.

So I contacted the school that administered the exam back when I was a kid.  I asked them if I met the threshold for mensa.  They said I did.  They could mail it to them on my behalf in a sealed/confidential envelope.

Where do I go from here?  Will I finally find a place where I can talk without threatening others?  A place of solidarity in a world that fears? Or will this just be one more way to track me.  A large part of me hopes that I have children who will never have to walk in my path.   A path of feeling held back and feeling “other” for the rest of their life.  I hope they can live in a world that is created and made for them, a place that accepts them because they are not threatened by them.  I hope they are not like me but at the same time … why not be like me?

Free writing… done.

 

Love and light,

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All photos, writings, poems, and opinions are my own.

 

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