To my elementary school teachers — not for the education you gave me, or the love for learning, or for having my best interest in mind. Thank you for doubting me every second of every day — for doubting my abilities, for doubting my capability to learn, for doubting the kind of person I might grow up to be. Thank you. Because by doubting me you pushed me to realize my true potential all on my own. You created a problem solver, a go getter, a do-er, an independent I don’t need you-er.
To the nasty girls in middle school who said I should kill myself. I’ve kept myself on earth, happy and healthy, thriving, working each day to be a better person. Partially just to spite you.
To my middle school gym teacher who told me I wouldn’t have friends in high school, who gave me a D in gym because I couldn’t sit still, who told me I would go nowhere in life. Look at me now!
To standardized testing for reminding me each year that statistics have no bearing on my existence, that I cannot be measured as a human, a student or a caregiver by a test — that my life is more than numbers, that I can do absolutely anything.
To everyone who said I couldn’t do it, for everyone who rolled their eyes, for everyone who, even for a second, didn’t believe in me. You’ve motivated me to get to where I am today. You’ve pushed me to do better, to be better, to want better for myself. You’ve taught me the value of a good friend or a teacher who cares. You’ve allowed me to see the good in people because I know what it’s like when people only see the bad. You’ve helped me more than I could’ve ever hoped. And it’s funny how that works.
So thank you.
This post originally appeared on This Ability of Mine.
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