Your daughter is gifted," the teacher said. I was 5 years old, about to start kindergarten. I briefly stopped yanking at my pigtails and glanced (way, way) up to see my parents beaming at that one particular word: gifted.
Nearly instantly, "gifted" became my label. Throughout elementary school, I'd go to an accelerated class three times a week. By middle school, I spent almost all of my time in my school's "gifted center." Science projects came together with ease, math problems could be decoded in seconds and my English papers basically wrote themselves. Above average, Beyond smart, Clever girl: Those were my ABCs growing up.
I got a lot of praise for being smart, and I clung to it like a life vest. It wasn't long before I wanted-no, needed to be "the smart one" wherever I went.
My performance in school was the main fuel for my confidence, my self-esteem and even my personality.
Sleepover with my friends? Can't, have to cram for the history final next month. Go for ice cream with the robotics team? No thanks, I'd rather sharpen my skills before the next competition. Hang with my BFF? Well, only if we could quiz each other on our vocab terms...
Flash forward to high school. I no longer was attending one of the top schools in the district, I was attending one of the top schools in the country. And that upped the stakes even more.
My desk space started to fill with piles of notes and coffee rings as I began seeing school not just as a place to learn, but as a place to win.
This story is from the October/November 2022 edition of Girls' Life magazine.
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This story is from the October/November 2022 edition of Girls' Life magazine.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 8,500+ magazines and newspapers.
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