Hi, my name is Ruth, and I'm a recovering smart kid.

[rsadelle]

One of the soul limber prompts in The Desire Map is, "What's different about me is that". My first thought, the thing I wrote down immediately, was, "I'm smart," and then I had this whole "UGH" feeling about it, and I wrote, "BUT THAT'S NOT ALL I AM OR WANT TO BE."

I was always the smart kid growing up. I got good grades and had the highest SAT scores in my graduating class. Teachers didn't always know what to do with me. I spent a lot of time withdrawing and reading because I had already gotten whatever it was we were covering in class. I think being smart is valuable and part of who I am and part of what makes me special in the world. I also think always being the smart kid can be damaging and limiting.

What I learned from being the smart kid: you always have to know the right answer. You always have to succeed (at least at things that rely on you being smart; I never had a 4.0 because of my B/B+ PE grades, and as an adult, I'm okay with not being good at physical things).

Illustrative story 1: The beginning of seventh grade, possibly even the first day of seventh grade, and one of the kids I've known since fourth grade raises his hand and says, in response to something I can't even remember now, "Ruth is always right." Our English teacher looks at us and says, "Ruth is always right," as if it's a truism about the universe.

Illustrative story 2: In tenth grade, we had an awesome Honors Biology teacher. One of the things she did was extra credit on tests if you happened to use whatever she'd chosen as the secret word, which was always something we'd talked about in class. (This is relevant to the story so you know that giving extra credit for creativity was a thing she did.) We would go over our tests as a class when we got them back. For one test, she asked someone to read his answer, for which she'd given him a point, and he read out, "For the right answer, see Ruth's paper."

I didn't just learn that smart kids are supposed to know the right answer; I learned that I was supposed to know the right answer. The most important thing I've learned as an adult is that it's okay to fail and it's okay to be wrong. Intellectually, I know this is true. But I still haven't totally internalized it, and getting something wrong can still send me into an internal "I'm not good enough" shame spiral.

I also struggle against the way that "smart" is a hard label to expand beyond. When you're smart, you're supposed to only believe in and engage in things that are intellectual, scientific, fact-based. I'm smart, but that's not all I am: I'm creative; I have a tender and deeply loving heart; I have a daily spiritual practice that connects me to the divinity/oneness of the whole universe. There might be science that says creativity, feelings, and meditation are beneficial to us, but creativity, feelings, and meditation in and of themselves are not intellectual activities, and I keep hitting up against that belief that intellectual things are the only worthy pursuits, even though it's the creativity, feelings, and meditation that make me happy.

I know some of you were also smart kids growing up. Did you have some of these same experiences? Have you found ways to learn to be okay with being wrong? How about ways to expand beyond "smart"?

Comments

[ninja-orange.livejournal.com]

It's 1am and I can't form a thoughtful reply right now, but I was *definitely* the smart kid growing up and I'd like to discuss this. Poke me about it if I forget to reply later!

[rsadelle]

I remember you reblogging some kind of what the system does to smart kids post on Tumblr. I would love to talk to you about this, and I will nudge you if you never come back. ♥

[ninja-orange.livejournal.com]

My experience growing up was tempered by actually being really smart but having clinically low self esteem and bad anxiety, so I was constantly extremely stressed by the thought of failing, and convinced that contrary to past evidence, I was about to fail. I had very high expectations for myself that were exacerbated when people were surprised when I did less than perfectly. The surprise felt like criticism, even if it wasn't meant that way.

As I've grown up, the hardest lesson (although the most necessary) was learning failure, and disassociating my self worth from my grades and scores (all an ongoing process). I don't think anything really helped but exposure therapy and growing up. Eventually I got a C on a test and the world didn't end, I realized people liked me as a person regardless of my academic average, etc.

As a smart adult, I empathize with wanting to be more than just smart! I went to a prestigious school, I test well so my scores are high, and I hate those expectations sometimes. I'm good at what I do, but I'm not a genius and I don't want people to treat me weirdly or see that as all I am. I hate it when people ask where I went to school and when I answer they say "oh so you're like REALLY smart". Maybe, but that's not all I am! I try to tell people about things like ballet and crossfit since it's a non-academic interest to balance that out.

[rsadelle]

*hugs* That sounds really tough.

My self esteem thing was always about social stuff, which probably tied in with the smart thing - if I could only be good enough, people would like me. I know what you mean about realizing that people like you for things that aren't your academic achievements.

And, oh, yes, to that surprise thing. Seventh grade history: "You got a C+ on this test?" That definitely contributed to the lesson that I was supposed to have the right answer.

I don't think of myself as having had such high expectations for myself, but I was always doing more/overachieving. One of the things I really like about reading Danielle LaPorte's stuff is that she talks a lot about working for the things you want but not overachieving on the things you don't want (here's one of those posts, and the audio version). I'm sure other people talk about this too, but I'm connecting with this version of that disassociating self-worth from achievement. There's a bit from here that I've been thinking about a lot: "Underachieve. This is especially for all the A Types and workaholics. Slack. Don't finish the book. For one week, do not do a to-do list. (I know, your palms are sweating at the very thought.) Be late just because you wanted an extra five minutes in the hot shower." I'm not sure I'm underachieving, exactly, but I'm working at not overachieving. Good enough instead of every possible thing being done and done right/done with more effort than it really needed doesn't mean I'm unworthy. (Uh, it probably helps that being smart means that in many situations, my 80% is better than other people's 110%.) She also has a saying, "Be careful what you’re good at—you could end up doing it for years," that I keep thinking about. Just because I can be good at something doesn't mean I have to do it.

Ballet and crossfit are excellent other things to tell people about yourself! The thing I struggle with is: how do I be myself and tell people about things I'm into when I've often had the experience of being judged for what I like? I like pop culture and fandom, which are things that are very much not taken seriously by many intellectual types. I'm trying to learn to balance out being myself in a way that still protects me in spaces where I know there's likely to be judgement and not expecting judgement in places where I haven't experienced it.

[lakeeffectgirl.livejournal.com]

♥

[rsadelle]

♥

[crose5141.livejournal.com]

Dear Ruth,

I have a similar story, though the main difference is that I didn’t start out as a “smart” kid. When I was in elementary school, smart kids were placed into an accelerated class called Metamorphosis. I was never asked to be in the program and I considered myself inferior to the kids in the program, despite the fact that everyone said that I should be in it.

When I got to middle school, I took placement tests, and was placed in all accelerated classes with the Metamorphosis kids. In one swoop, I lost all my friends who were placed into regular classes and then placed into accelerated classes with kids who were all friends with each other already. It was lonely and I coped by studying and studying and being a smart kid and nothing else. I didn’t really have hobbies in middle school or high school, besides trying to get the best grades that I could get. Plus, I had low self-esteem and anxiety issues.

At the end of high school, I graduated third in my class, but had no real friends or hobbies. I ended up getting into a prestigious university and I have continued to perpetuate the cycle by studying and being a loner. I guess I’m afraid that if I let people in, they’ll see how weak the real me is and run out of my life.

I want to change my life, but it’s so hard to break the cycle. I guess it’s like being an alcoholic because once you’re a smart kid; you will never stop being a smart kid. There will always be that voice at the back of your mind saying that you always have to be right, that you have to be smarter than everyone else, etc.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any real advice for you because when I got to college, I ended up undergoing a shock and realized that I wasn’t even the smartest or the second smartest or even the third smartest kid in the room anymore. I was just average.

So now, I’m trying to reinvent myself (pretty unsuccessfully so far) and discover where my passions lie. I’ve tried writing and it’s been the one constant in my life. Even though, I’m aware that most (or actually all) of my writing will never see the light of day or be published, I still like putting my ideas to paper.

But even writing is lonely, so I am going to try and let people in and see the real me. I’ll let you know how it goes, but I’m a pessimist, so I’m not really expecting much to happen.

-C.D.

[rsadelle]

Hi there! I have sat on this comment without replying for so long because I don't really know what to say. *hugs* That sounds really hard, especially being in a tough middle school situation without having any friends. Junior high was hell in a lot of ways, but I do feel lucky that I had a solid friend group.

I'm glad you've found writing! And I'm glad you're sticking with it even if you don't share it with anyone. I know a lot of people who have given up on creative endeavors because they think they're not good enough, which I think is sad - activities can be valuable for you even if they don't end in a product you think is perfect. (To be fair, I find this easier with physical things. I took dance classes for years as an adult, and while I wasn't very good at it, I loved it and enjoyed getting better and dancing for its own sake.)

It's so hard to be vulnerable and let people see you in ways that include the tender spots and the places where you're not pretending to be something other than what you are. Especially because sometimes that doesn't work out well and people hurt you. I've been working on being up front about it (like in some of these entries) when I'm going there and asking people to be gentle with me. I've also been trying to severely limit the amount of time I spend with people whose response to my vulnerability is hurtful. I'm finding that's made me a lot happier.

I hope you continue to be more open with people! It's scary, but it's also wonderful to have people in your life who both love you and really deeply know you. I'm even surprised sometimes by how deeply some of those people know me, and it's the good kind of surprised where it makes me feel really cared about.

I don't know if you're interested in advice that might help you break out of the smart kid cycle and change how you relate to people, but if you are, you might find reading some of Captain Awkward's posts on meeting new people (like these three recent posts). Captain Awkward and the commenters have a very geeky/nerdy perspective that might seem helpful.

(Edited to fix the unfinished paragraph at the end.)

[(Anonymous)]

I love this discussion. I grew up in an academic family where being smart was a given with no extra credit. In fact all of my siblings and I perceive ourselves as moderately bright, despite evidence that we are all "smart". For us the pressure is, of course your bright, but what have you done that's extraordinary? Have you written a bestseller, gone into space, led a national climate change movement, trekked across Africa? No. Well....so sorry to hear that. I struggle a lot with this: tension between valuing a simple life and a grand sense of adventure and ambition. In my 50s.I think I'm learning to take the middle road more often.

Ruth, I've always admired how creative and fun you are--- and the smart just seems like part of the mix. It's weird how intensely those childhood labels continue to shape our sense of self through our adult life. (Btw, this is Idaho) Huga and love to you.

[rsadelle]

It's so hard to be okay with your own choices when the expectation is that you'll do something "great" by some other standard. :(

♥ Thank you! I really appreciate knowing that you see me that way.

[terl-girl.livejournal.com]

+1

A while back somebody did a study and found that kids who are singled out as gifted have worse self-esteem, more depression and less/no inclination to even try anything they might fail at. I've really struggled with that even in my adult life, and it's pretty much only been in the last year that I've stopped coming home from work and spending all night agonizing over every little thing I did wrong. (I largely credit fandom for helping me get over it, too. Like, Agent J fucks something up on every mission, even K gets his ass kicked and his gun taken away on a regular basis, so maybe I don't have to beat myself up for inconveniencing a few customers during a busy push. And Kondraki is such a psychotic fuckup that his bosses actively attempt to terminate - as in murder, not pink slip - him on a regular basis, so maybe if I didn't kill anybody or have to fill out paperwork it was a good day.)

[rsadelle]

Yeah, it's really hard to be okay with the possibility of failure. I love that fandom was a thing that helped you! ♥