Graduate

Growing up, I struggled through school.  Like, sit at the kitchen table for several hours straight (not getting anywhere) and bawl my eyes out while my mom did everything in her power to help me learn/retain things (she's a saint, btw).

You see, I'm dyslexic, I have insane test anxiety, and I am an extremely slow learner; however, I didn't know about the dyslexia until I was in high school.  As a child I felt dumb and pathetic and knew I would never attend college. 

During high school, things did get easier for me.  I essentially learned how to teach myself.  I would read my papers/assignments, etc. out loud as if I were teaching someone else.  But if someone was actually listening to me, I couldn't keep my focus and would get so nervous that I'd stutter over my words, and then of course I would feel even more stupid.  Sometimes it took a week to get through a single page, and other times I flew through an entire chapter in one day.
Despite struggling, I actually thoroughly enjoyed high school.  I felt like I was conquering something huge! And then I graduated.  I was sad because I loved learning new things. But I also knew that I couldn't attend college. 

I was afraid to fail.

Fast forward a few years (there will be another post coming about these years), and I did, in my mind, the unthinkable.  I applied to a local community college.  I took entrance exams.  I signed up for classes.  And I refused to go through the disabilities program for help (I wanted to prove to myself what I could really do on my own). 

There were some semesters that I only took one or two classes and felt like it was too much, and then there were others where I took up to five classes at once!  I was overwhelmed.  I puked before, during and after every written exam (this is probably under exaggerated).  I just kept praying that I would get grades at least high enough to graduate. I never looked at final grades. I just asked my professors if I passed or not.  I just needed to get by.  But I definitely lost hope easily.

And then I got a letter.  This letter was from the dean of my school during my third semester... at just about the same time I felt like a failure and wanted to quit.  It stated that I had a 4.0 gpa and asked if I would consider tutoring struggling students once a week...
What?!  This was impossible in my mind. Didn't he know I was a struggling student?  Did he know how much a threw up during my exams? Or how many nights I went to bed crying without finishing my homework? Clearly he was looking at someone else's transcript.     

That letter gave me more than hope, though.  It gave me determination.  I wasn't just going to graduate.  I was going to be an honor student. 

And I did it.  I graduated college... with honors! 

I can thank Jesus, my family, boyfriend and professors for all of it.  They were always encouraging.

I'm not saying I don't have (a LOT of) doubts, stress, uncertainty, or that I never feel stupid or like a failure anymore.  But this accomplishment has definitely given me more confidence. 

So much so, that I am going back to school again.  If I fail, I fail. But, would it actually be failure to try?