Growing up, I was a straight A student. At third grade, I was reading at a sixth grade level. I was put into a "gifted" program, where my "advanced" skills would be worked on to make me even more "advanced". On top of this, I was constantly compared to my brother, who, in my small town, was and still is, considered a genius by many. I would enter a new grade and whoever my new teacher was, no matter the subject, would say, "You're Larry Frangos' little sister, aren't you? I expect a lot out of you." This was always followed by some weird smile between us, as if we shared a secret. I loathed those words and I loathed that smile, ever since the fifth grade. I knew I was a smart kid, but I never thought I could compare to my brother and that put a lot of pressure on me, pressure that I didn't need at just eleven years old.
I began to expect a lot out of myself. I wouldn't allow myself to slip below an A in any class; this lasted until high school. In high school, I received a few B's, something that always crushed me. I knew my parents wouldn't care, because it's not like I was failing. So I struggled a bit, so what? But I destroyed myself over those B's and, admittedly, when I wasn't valedictorian like my brother was, I felt like I'd failed everyone. I'd failed myself, my parents, my brother. I didn't feel like I was good enough and I felt like my life was over.
I thought that when I entered college, things would be different. The chances of me having a professor that knew my brother were one in a million; we're studying completely different things, for crying out loud. And on that front, it was different. No one had any idea who I was, they didn't recognize my name. That made me happy for a while, until I got my first B in a college class.
I thought that the anxiety was gone, I thought that my depressive episodes over my grades were gone. I thought that I was through disappointing my parents (to be clear, I don't actually disappoint them, I just feel like I do). But I'm now in my junior year of college and I'm not doing so well in one of my classes, something I talked to my dad about.
I cried, I felt like I was a disappointment, I felt stupid and I felt like college wasn't worth it. I just wanted to spend a few weeks in a pile of blankets and watching my favorite movies, to get my mind off of my failures.
I've had a pretty great year when it comes to working on myself; I finally have some self-confidence and I've never loved myself more. I'm off of my anti-depressants and I'm doing great. So now I guess it's time to work on my feelings towards my schooling and my grades, which I know will take a while. But I am not my grades, I never was and I never will be. My intelligence and worth cannot be measured through standardized testing and quizzes on Chaucer and outer-space.
