a glob of nerdishness

I don’t know why I’ve kept it (or maybe I do) but I still have this box of ribbons, tassels, plaques and pins in our closet.

They’re bittersweet memories — of acclaim from teachers, judges, scoring systems – of jealousy and exclusion from classmates, peers and even friends.

My matches would all try so hard while I, along for the ride, always “won”. What was I supposed to do, drop out? Hardly trying, always winning. I hate winning.

High school was the first time I got along with almost everyone instead of almost no one. I owe a lot of that to one classmate, who my freshman year gave me blunt reminders to be a little more socially acceptable. After this friend discovered, our senior year, that I had earned top scholastic honors despite his top scholastic efforts…we didn’t talk much since.

College was dark. I would have actually written a screed raging against some machine, but what the note next to my recurring fantasy really said was simply “Sick of being smart, doing the stupidest thing in the world.”

And somehow, along for the ride, God took me through it and more and beyond and here I sit, awake, the most beautiful girl in the world sleeping beside me, typing on a flattering laptop that I “won” for just doing my job.

I hate winning.

Is that why I so eagerly snatch defeat from the jaws of victory? Is that why I’m so uncomfortable leading? Maybe that’s why I act socially unacceptable: to make others uncomfortable with my leadership? So I’ll lose?

I’m going to learn to enjoy being smart. Maybe some will choose to exclude me because of it, but I’m done excluding myself on account of a capacity someone else chose for me.