My performance in math is indeed at a low average, but in spite of how bad I am at it, I will use this subject as a definition of myself.
I am math.
I am defined by those tangent lines taken from the arc of my spine because the domain of my being is infinite. A curve (scoliosis) for a spine instead of a straight line is what I have on my body. I don’t fully understand myself; I am misunderstood by many, and I am easily given up by the majority, because the matrix of my mind is the inverse of my identity. I am half the girl I once was, but twice as strong compared to who I was before. I was never really good at solving problems, but I think that makes me a quarter of the way there.
Some days, I begin to think I wasn’t born for mathematical equations and scientific problems. I don’t wake up every day to feel bad about myself because my mind is bleeding over an algebra problem. I don’t live to find x and y. I find it hard to answer and focus on math questionnaires. My mind is discombobulated by numbers, and I am unable to comprehend equations set before me. My mind refuses to sit still. I struggle to keep myself calm. I try so hard to stop myself from uttering the word “stupid” every time I can’t solve a certain problem. When I find myself conscious, I wish for life to be a calculation where I can add positivity and subtract negativity.
But although I was not born a math wizard with a straight spinal cord, I can still say I am blessed. I have learned that even if I have a lot of ailments, I am still blessed because I have a bunch of people who love me as much as I love them. I am one sickly but blessed girl. I draw and I write—that not all people can do.
In my 10 years of studying, I have realized that I was brought here, in this big ball of soil and water, to read, to write, to do art, and to love. But how will I write? How will I do art? And how will I love if I am being destroyed by these fields? Instead of drawing and writing, I dash off numbers and letters stretching down neatly on paper. And somewhere along the way, I rush to complete them, not bothering to check because in the end, the thoughts in my head are more important.
So, why would I bother solving these equations and expressions when they don’t make sense to me? I feel hollow whenever I face math problems, like there’s nothing left of me but tired and empty. Math is indeed a wonderful and interesting subject. But I think it is not for me. I am math because I hate math, and I hate myself for not being good at it.
Janylle Chelsea (Jyll) B. Flores, 17, is studying psychology at the College of the Holy Spirit of Tarlac.