One Man's Trash Is Another Man's Treasure

Today, I was studying some basic math to help with my upcoming GRE, and I just couldn't get it. I reviewed the very basic-intergers, fractions, decimals, ratios, and so on. As I walked myself step-by-step through the how-to portion of the lessons, it all made sense. I remembered drilling these types of problems in middle school, and I felt like I had a good grasp on things. Then, I turned the page to the practice problems and I froze. All the numbers became unrecognizable symbols and everything I had felt so confident about not 30 minutes beforehand fell to the wayside and I just couldn't remember how to solve anything.
I felt this nagging feeling of..."dumb". I didn't have to convince myself that I was doing horribly, it just came naturally. I didn't even sit down already feeling defeated, it just krept in. Then, the awful inside voice started talking. "You've always been bad at math", "You'll always struggle with this", "Why are you even trying to get better?".

"You're a waste of space in my classroom".

And there it was. My 7th grade math teacher, living in my head, and screwing everything up. She said that to me once, kept me after class with another student and spoke those 8 words that I've, evidently, come to define myself, and my math ability by. I'm emptying out that garbage and making room for the truth. "I haven't always been bad at math", "I'm done struggling with this", "I will get better".

Mrs. M,

You're a waste of space in my head.