Why I am Not the Goddess of Wisdom

I was a child prodigy. There's no denying it. When I was ten years old, I could do two digit long division in my head and come up with the right answer. Ask my father about it. I was even considered to be in a special school program where kids with high IQ could really be challenged. I think it was my story about the lost dog that fudged up my application.

I loved everything about school in the beginning. I liked my teachers, classmates, friends, lessons, everything. When I went to the library, I always took out two books: one fiction, usually a Baby-Sitters Club, and one about animals, geography, or natural disasters. I walked around telling everyone that I was going to be a scientist when I grew up. And a figure skater on the side. I absorbed new knowledge like Britney Spears absorbs fried chicken.

But then in Grade Four, the Bad Stuff happened. That year was the first year I had a mean teacher. She would pick on everything that anyone did wrong, whether it was manners, writing, or grammar problems. She insisted that I sit in the back of the class due to my height, despite my repeated protests that my vision was blurry (I didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of me needing glasses) It was the first time that I didn't want to go to school because I didn't want to learn anything from a teacher.

Then we moved into a house and I had to switch schools in the middle of the year. The teacher I had in the new school was a lot sweeter, but my classmates were hellish. I went from a school where we played House and Tag to one where girls traded make-up tips and tried to have their first kisses at the age of eleven. I was an outcast; unpopular because my parents didn't see the need to buy me anything with the Nike swoosh on it. I started blaming school for my problems. It was because I had to go there and face the ridicule of my peers that I hated it. It didn't help that I was also teased for my love of reading.

Luckily, in Grade Six, I switched schools once again, this time finding friends that had the same interests as me and also having amazing teachers that re-instated my love of learning. But the damage was done and I would no longer be one of the smartest kids in my class nor would I fiercely love books as much until mid-high school.

To this day, I haven't fully recovered. I was clever enough to get through high school with minimal damage; my teachers kept saying that they could see the potential I had, but I was just too damn lazy to let it out. But I knew the truth: I had simply burned out when it came to school.

And this truth proved itself in university. I couldn't keep up with the other students. I was smart enough to get accepted, but not enough to not fail at least one class per semester. This year, I had enough of university that I decided to pursue my dreams in another way: by dropping out of uni and taking up a baker's apprenticeship.

Ask me about current events and I'll show you how ignorant I am. Beg me to give you advice and mid-way through, you'll realize I have no idea what I'm blabbering about. Goddess of Wisdom? Nope, sorry, you're in the wrong temple.