⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

let’s get one thing straight: not liking chemistry doesn’t make me dumb.

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chemistry was, honestly, the worst class of all time. memorizing elements and equilibrium equations? solving problems i’d never use in real life? no thanks. and yes, maybe i was borderline failing at one point, but i was never sent to summer school, so there’s that.

meanwhile, in real life: i finished data science ii with a 97%, embedding python visuals and hyper-annotating projects. i led a stock market project team, analyzed data, made graphs, wrote the report, and presented to the principal and multiple math teachers. i excelled in journalism, entrepreneurship, marketing, astronomy, geosystems, html, coding, it, and more. i’m literally a modern polymath — i connect ideas across creative, technical, and analytical fields.

so, to my high school ex-boyfriend who thought/said his ex was “smarter” than me in chemistry: jokes on you.

intelligence isn’t measured by one subject or one grade. it’s measured by curiosity, creativity, problem-solving, and initiative — all things i’ve done, often outside traditional school expectations.

and speaking of curiosity and creativity… i like to imagine my friend group in an alternate universe: twilight sparkle and blossom. twilight would totally understand my nerdy obsession with learning, python coding, and data science. blossom would appreciate my strategic thinking, leadership, and organized chaos. together, the three of us would have brainstorming sessions that mix magic, coding, and problem-solving, pushing each other to do our best while having fun.

the lesson?

i need to believe in myself more. one class, one ex’s opinion, or one narrow definition of “smart” doesn’t define me. i’m a thinker, a creator, a problem-solver, and yes — a polymath. chemistry can take its formulas and my ex can take their judgment — i know where i shine, and it’s way beyond a lab table.

and in my delusional, totally fun imagination, twilight and blossom would totally be my besties.

if they really existed, i’d time travel back to high school, take care of myself more, and politely ask them to teach me chemistry. and hey, if things got really wild, i’d “cheat” on my fictional tests with a telepathy device while twilight and blossom whispered the right answers — just enough to lift a weight off my shoulders.

real ones, supporting me in the weirdest, most magical way.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ why school didn’t really teach me sh*t (and chemistry can kiss my GPA) ⋆⭒˚.⋆

let’s be real: high school is weird. you’re told that every subject is essential, that every formula and theory will shape your future.

and yet, for me, one class completely tanked my vibe: chemistry.

yes, that’s right — the one class that haunted me for years, made me stay up late, and probably shaved years off my life in stress… and for what?

i’ve never once had to balance an equation in real life, let alone calculate an equilibrium constant while writing code or designing a website.

like, tf do you mean i need to put an equilibrium equation in my python code and solve it???

chemistry felt like a wall standing between me and the things i actually cared about.

grades don’t lie… or do they?

i wasn’t the stereotypical preppy straight-a student, and honestly, i didn’t care to be. but when i look at my transcript now, it tells a story:

freshman & sophomore years + junior year: mixed results — some b’s, c’s, and yes, that infamous d in chemistry. my gpa after my junior year sat at 3.351.

senior year: i finally got my life together. straight a’s across data science (97%), journalism (98%), entrepreneurship/marketing (96%+), astronomy (90%), and geosystems (92%). by the end of senior year, my cumulative gpa had climbed to 3.559, enough to get honors and prove that, yes, i could absolutely excel when the subject actually clicked with me.

the pattern is clear: i thrived when learning aligned with my brain and interests, not when i was forced to memorize stuff that felt irrelevant.

i was a scientist, even when i didn’t realize it

even though i doubted myself at times, i was actively doing science in my own way. i dabbled in html coding and computer science, built projects, and explored systems. my data science class taught me python, data visualization, and statistical thinking — and i didn’t just leave it there. i combined it with my html knowledge, customizing and creating interactive outputs that i could actually see and use. i was observing patterns, experimenting with outcomes, analyzing results, and iterating on my designs — all the things real scientists do.

in other words, even if it wasn’t in a lab with a white coat, i was thinking like a scientist, testing hypotheses, and learning by doing. that’s the essence of scientific thinking, and i did it in a modern, self-directed way.

what school actually taught me… and didn’t

here’s the thing. school tried. it really did. but forcing me to take chemistry didn’t teach me anything i needed, whereas other things i discovered on my own or through more engaging classes did:

data science & python: i learned statistical thinking, coding logic, and visualization — skills i actually use.

journalism & english: i became a strong communicator, a researcher, and someone who can explain complex ideas clearly.

entrepreneurship & marketing: i learned strategy, systems thinking, and how humans make decisions — all real-world applicable.

astronomy & geosystems: i trained my brain to think conceptually, see patterns, and understand complex systems.

creative projects (drawing, design, web, roblox, neocities): i taught myself it, coding, and design while running projects that got thousands of views — all before college even entered the conversation.

in short, the stuff i genuinely engaged with made me smarter and more capable than the stuff school forced me to memorize ever did.

i’m smart, outside the standardized box

here’s the thing — school doesn’t have a way to measure a lot of the stuff i actually do well. you could say i’m smart, but not in the “sit quietly, memorize formulas, take a test” way. i’m smart in ways school can’t grade:

i code, visualize data, and experiment with systems that i build myself.

i design, draw, and create experiences that people actually interact with online — like a semi-viral roblox project at 11 or a neocities site with thousands of views.

i write, research, and communicate clearly, skills that no test can fully capture.

i think strategically, understanding systems, human behavior, and business in ways i apply practically.

i’m naturally curious and integrate knowledge across domains — essentially doing my own modern version of “science, tech, and art experiments” outside the classroom.

so yeah, school might have judged me by tests and assignments, but real-world smarts aren’t measured in memorized equations.

my brain works across multiple fields, and that’s the kind of intelligence that actually matters when you build, create, and solve problems.

why this matters

school didn’t teach me “all the right things.” but it did teach me one important lesson: i learn best when it’s meaningful, hands-on, and aligned with my neurodivergent brain.

chemistry might have tanked my gpa for a bit, but it didn’t stop me from excelling in my areas of strength. and honestly? i’d take a semester of straight coding, journalism, or design over a lifetime of memorizing elements any day.

my story isn’t about hating school or avoiding work. it’s about finding what actually engages your mind, applying it, and thriving in your own way. and if that means leaving some subjects in the dust (looking at you, chemistry), that’s fine. because the world doesn’t need another person who can balance equations — it needs people who can build, communicate, analyze, and create.

tl;dr

chemistry: 0/10 for life relevance

data science, journalism, entrepreneurship, creative projects: 11/10, actual applicable skills

gpa: 3.351 after junior year → 3.559 at the end of senior year → proof i could excel when learning was aligned with me

life lesson: school didn’t define my intelligence. engagement did.

and yes, i was a scientist all along — experimenting, observing, analyzing, and iterating, just not in a traditional lab.

so yeah, school didn’t really teach me sh*t — but i sure taught myself a lot. and honestly, that’s way more fun.

꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ three people, one lesson: don’t let anyone steal you!

high school sucked. like, really.

there’s *M — my teenage heart wanted him so badly, but the adult me?

NO.

i see it now. he took advantage of the intimacy i trusted him with.

i loved him once, sure, but now i’m firm, cooler, not letting anyone use me like that. punching him wasn’t the answer, but it was like… freeing. like telling him, “no more.” i had to reclaim that part of myself.

then there’s my (past) journalism adviser.

she meant well, maybe, but she didn’t get me. she assumed i liked pop stars — seriously, she asked if i liked selena gomez when i literally wrote an article about heavy metal.

she gave advice i didn’t want — “be more vulnerable” — like my feelings for M were just puppy love. she didn’t see my panic, my boundaries. that assembly, the one with all the people and the bell ringing, my claustrophobia went wild, i cried in the library, screamed at home… and she just didn’t see it. she didn’t know, and honestly, i didn’t tell her. i just pushed her away. no hugs. no ice cream. a solid year of “i don’t want to talk to you right now.” and i don’t regret it.

and then, the pick-me bully. this girl thrived on drama. she stalked ME online, asked personal questions, tried to shame me, tried to manipulate everyone. she kicked me, tried to trip me, stared daggers like i did something wrong for existing. and i just… stared back. said what i needed. didn’t shrink. didn’t let her get my energy. learned quickly: people like her only get power if you let them. they’re not worth it.

i saw the games.

i didn’t play.

my boundaries became iron.

all three?

they taught me something.

that i push away to protect myself. that i withdraw when people assume too much about me. that i can be cold, detached, but still care about the right things. maybe it’s autism, maybe it’s just self-preservation, but my instincts are loud. they scream: protect your peace. don’t let anyone manipulate you. and i listen.

so yeah. i pushed away, snapped, said no, stopped hugging, screamed into the mirror, and walked away from bad energy. it’s not about being mean. it’s about survival, about reclaiming autonomy, about making sure no one — not a boy, not a teacher, not a bully — takes my sense of self from me.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . || setting boundaries & reclaiming myself

okay so, high school was a mess.

i feel like so much of it came down to being misunderstood. like… completely.

after my mother threw away my newspaper clippings for being a spanish monolingual for 30-years, i started pulling away from my journalism adviser. small at first — rejecting hugs, saying “i really don’t want to talk to you now.” but it turned into this wall. this… solid wall.

she meant well, i guess. but her advice?

sometimes just BAD. telling me to be more vulnerable when all i wanted was justice for myself. i snapped more than once: “mrs. t, do me a FAVOR, and get your hands off of me.” i stopped reciprocating affection. didn’t regret it.

even when i was distraught about *M (my jerk boyfriend), my teenage heart YEARNED for him. but my adult self? firm. cooler. detached.

he exploited my intimacy, and that hurt. even if i had “moved on” or let myself stay passive, i would never have gotten the respect i wanted. i’d rather be feared than loved. headstrong? yes. but i’m learning to own it.

some moments were worse than others.

one assembly triggered my claustrophobia, so bad i felt sick to my stomach. sent to the library afterward like that was supposed to help. i cried silently. went home and screamed into the mirror: “I WANT TO GOUGE MY EYES OUT!!!!!!!!” — sorry to my sweet blue budgie, Whiskey boy.

i couldn’t help it. it wasn’t about the pop music producer who ruined my day — i didn’t even care about him. it was about my autonomy. my space. my time.

then there were interactions that made me realize how little she got me. like, she assumed i liked selena gomez. i mean… i wrote a heavy metal article for the school paper. clearly i was punk rock. but she kept treating me like some lovestruck teenager who couldn’t get over a boy. so i withdrew. weird looks. cold shoulder. constant wall.

even small things counted. ice cream after the publication? i rejected it more than once. too busy, too careful with my energy. even when she asked, “do you want some?” i said, “no, i don’t care for it.” not cruelty. self-protection. lesson learned: my emotional energy is mine.

looking back, i can also see that some of this might be me being autistic. bright lights, loud rooms, crowded spaces — they make me anxious, sick even. changes in schedules throw me off. hyperfixating on tests and routines isn’t just “being a nerd,” it’s how my brain organizes safety and control. realizing that now makes so many past meltdowns make sense. it’s not shame, it’s clarity. it’s knowing my brain works differently, and that’s okay.

the pattern is obvious now. push people away not because i don’t care — i care a lot — but because i’ve been misread, misunderstood, overexposed too many times. affection and attention feel unsafe → cutoff. cold, detached, protective. sometimes i regret it, but regret isn’t a mistake. it’s my system trying to keep me safe.

most importantly, it taught me that i can reflect on my past without letting it define me. i can reclaim my story, my emotions, my boundaries — and that’s enough.

looking back, i also don’t think my journalism adviser ever caught on that i could’ve been slightly autistic, even though not in the classic aspergers stereotype.

she kept treating me like i was neurotypical, even though she claimed to have “ADHD” herself. i never told her how bad my hyperventilation actually was, or how close i was to shutting down during crowded, loud situations. i didn’t have the language for it yet, and i definitely wasn’t advocating for myself the way i can now. so from her perspective, i probably just looked moody, distant, or difficult — not overwhelmed, not struggling with sensory overload, not quietly panicking while trying to keep it together. realizing this doesn’t erase the harm, but it does add context.

she couldn’t fully understand what i never knew how to explain.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . || not your wanna-be 2000s fantasy — i’m the millennium diva ⋆｡°✩

high school sophomore to junior year can be brutal — and i definitely learned that the hard way.

there was this girl who became obsessed with 2000s pop, and one day she stumbled upon cassie's ‘long way 2 go.’ she got totally obsessed with the line: “cuz’ you know your girlfriend wanna be me...” but honestly? the very first question she ever asked me, when i was just an adolescent, was, “so, how many guys have you slept with?” i was minding my business, trying to exist as a 15-year-old — i had no interest in that drama, yet there she was, sexualizing and intruding into my life right out of the gate.

i also remember when i tried out the kogal look, a soft, light pink outfit inspired by j-fashion. i had these adorable striped legwarmers, and i put the whole thing together in a way that felt fun and stylish — yet she called me a bimbo. she even tried slut-shaming me for it, despite the fact that my outfit was nothing more than a cute, modest look. i mean, it wasn't revealing at all, but she just couldn't handle that i was confident enough to embrace a different style.

now, let’s talk about why she was a bully. a bully isn't just someone who insults you once. it's someone who consistently harasses, manipulates, and crosses boundaries. she stalked me — seriously. roblox profile, decade-old gmail account, my brother's car license plate, even asked if i used instagram just to “block” me. she tried to control the narrative, create chaos, and twist situations to her advantage.

she tried to pit me against my ex by spreading lies, accusing me of “stealing her boyfriend” when i didn't even know who she was. she used triangulation — trying to manipulate me, my ex, and herself into some non-existent love triangle. it was like she had to turn everything into a competition. she tried to get teachers to dislike me for no reason, playing the victim while i was just trying to live my life, minding my own business and refusing to engage with her toxicity.

and while she might have had a group of people around her, people who considered her "popular," there was always that undercurrent of irony. the truth is, kind people dont have to worry about what others say about them behind their backs. sure, the toxic, rude, ‘popular’ kids may have the crowd, but when youre constantly chasing attention and gossiping, you leave a trail of bitterness. people can see through that — even if they dont always speak up in the moment.

on the other hand, the kindest people often have fewer people speaking badly about them behind their back. why? because their energy speaks for itself. they aren't trying to manipulate anyone; they're just being real. so, when people talk about the “popular” kids, it's often with resentment or disdain, even if it's behind closed doors.

for weeks, she'd been bullying me, testing my patience, and constantly trying to make me feel small. she kicked me in the shin with her black converse one day, thinking she could keep pushing me around. that was when i realized i could no longer just take it. i had to assert my dominance. i hesitated for a moment, weighing whether it was worth fighting back, but after just a few seconds of her continued provocation, i finally snapped. i looked at her and said, “get closer.” the adrenaline hit, and i grabbed her flannel, pulling her down the stairs. my rage and frustration came to a head, and in that moment, i reminded her, “karma is a bitch’ — the energy you put out is always the energy you get back.

i remember one day, my bully stormed up to my desk, clearly trying to confront me, all fired up, thinking i'd engage in her drama. she started with some petty remark, and i couldn't take it anymore. i was just tired of being the target of her constant needling, so i looked her dead in the eye and said, "why would i want to be fat like you??? i'm happy with the way i am." the harassment didnt end there.

she would try to trip me in the hallways, send me those vehement, spiteful glares, and act like i was some kind of enemy when i was literally just being kind and trying to keep to myself. and the glares? intense. she was looking at me like i'd done something wrong, when in reality, i was just minding my own damn business.

then came the moment when i finally had enough. she tried to physically trip me, and i snapped back: “get your man leg away from me and watch the weight next time.” it was harsh, but she had been bullying me for years. i walked away after saying it, unbothered, because i wasnt going to let her steal my peace anymore.

in fact, she would’ve been ostracized by the 2000s social media culture because back then, people saw through the superficiality. the body-positive movement wasnt even a thing yet, and the pressure to look a certain way was massive — but that wasnt her. she wasnt that stereotypical "barbie’ body — i was the one pulling off those skinny jeans and owning that hourglass look. i didn't need to manipulate or gossip to get attention; i had it just by being me.

my bully would've quickly realized that in a world without curated filters, she wouldn't have been able to control the narrative. what’s even more ironic is that she wouldn't have fit into the 2000s social media culture at all. if she had tried to be part of that world — with myspace, facebook, and those early platforms — her toxic, self-absorbed behavior wouldn't have flown. back in the day, there was no hiding behind a curated instagram story or the kind of selective, filtered persona people put out today.

if she'd tried to create that image of being “the it girl,” she would've been exposed. she wasn't even the idealized “barbie doll” figure that the 2000s glamorized — i was. while she obsessed over controlling her image, talking about her pcos, ovarian cysts, and oversharing about iuds and hospital visits, she was just loudly seeking attention in a way that felt more about shocking people than about authentic connection. the most toxic part of her behavior wasn't just about being mean or petty; it was about her manipulation and controlling the narrative.

when she realized i wasn't playing into her games, she escalated — but i kept my composure. i wasn't about to let her define who i was, or let her convince others i was the villain. to my ex: you sent an unwanted bully my way and refused to believe me. that's on you. but you know what? i learned more about my strength, independence, and resilience than i ever would've by staying in that toxic space. i dont need your validation. the real power is letting go of people who can't respect your truth.

people started speaking up about how much she had played both sides, tried to manipulate everyone around her, and create unnecessary drama. finally, i wasn't alone in seeing her for what she was. and in that moment, i realized that authenticity always wins. she spent so much energy trying to manipulate people, while i just focused on being myself. i didn't need to play any games. i let the truth speak for itself, and it did.

mean-girl behavior doesn't last. real strength does. now, let's get into the glow-up. i was the true 2000s girl — you know, rocking skinny jeans, having that hourglass figure, and owning the whole vibe. she spent her time chasing guys, making drama, and trying to get attention. meanwhile, i just was. i didn't need to fight for a label or prove anything to anyone. i was already living that it girl lifestyle in real life. i didn’t need to be fake or toxic to be noticed. i was already glowing on my own.

bullies, drama, and toxic people might seem powerful in the moment, but they fade. the girls who stay rooted in self-respect, kindness, boundaries, and confidence? those are the ones who actually glow up in real life. it wasnt just about surviving toxic relationships or the petty games. it was about fighting for myself in a world that constantly tried to tell me i wasn't enough, wasn't worthy of respect, or wasnt allowed to be exactly who i was.

i lost a lot during that time. i lost myself, my sense of freedom, and even parts of my creativity and expression. but i came back stronger. because once you realize how much you've lost, you fight harder to reclaim it all. the bullying was just one piece of the puzzle. the bigger picture was about getting my autonomy back — finding my voice again, finding my talents that were buried under shame and manipulation, and owning who i am with pride.

even when everything felt lost, i fought to regain that control over my life. to reclaim my sense of self was a battle in and of itself, but i had no choice. it was either i let the world swallow me whole, or i stood up for everything i had to offer. be kind. stay true to yourself. don't pick petty fights. and never let anyone — mean girl, ex, or stalker — convince you that shrinking yourself is an option.

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takeaways: dont engage in petty drama; people who live authentically always shine brighter than those who seek validation through manipulation. set boundaries and stick to them — dont let anyone cross your lines, no matter how much they try to manipulate you. bullies cant take your peace unless you let them; stand your ground, and be unbothered.

end note: cassie's always been said to be beautiful, but there’s always been a certain sadness behind her eyes, too. i doubt she'd support any of this mean-spirited behavior, because she knows what it feels like to be judged and objectified. she would not condone my bully's immature & prolonged harrassment. 

instead of genuinely loving cassie's artistry, my bully just wanted to use cassie's appearance to reflect her own desire for validation. 

she never appreciated cassie for who she was as a person or artist. 

in a way, she indirectly bullied cassie by reducing her to a symbol of vanity — a reflection of the image my bully wanted to project, not the artist with her own struggles and identity.

the real hot ones were never pick-me's to begin with, e.g. me.

 

why i’d be besties with Twilight Sparkle (and why she’s adorably smart in japanese)

some people collect sneakers or gadgets. me?

i collect ideas, projects, and… apparently, a love for twilight sparkle in japanese mlp. honestly, she’s just so cute with the japanese text — every time i watch, i get a little smile at how serious and smart she looks, but also how relatable she is.

brains + fun

she loves solving problems, i love solving problems. she likes organizing chaos, i like combining chaos in creative ways, like embedding python code into written reports. together, we’d be a hilarious and productive duo — mixing logic, creativity, and way too much enthusiasm for nerdy stuff.

friendship goals (mlp edition)

coding & magic jam sessions: python meets spellbooks.

support for quirks: adhd, hyper-focus, random obsessions — all celebrated.

adorable japanese twilight moments: sharing the same joy over the cute japanese text and her little expressions.

at the end of the day, twilight and i would click because we value curiosity, creativity, and intelligence outside the usual rules, and she’d probably think my projects were way too extra in the best way.

i’d like to think we’d start a magical coding lab together, laughing and learning constantly.

₊˚⊹ᰔ ˖˚⊹ ꣑ৎ‎ ₊˚ why i would befriend Blossom!

why i’d be friends with blossom

blossom isn’t just the leader of the powerpuff girls — she’s smart, organized, and driven, and that’s exactly the kind of person i vibe with. here’s why i think we’d be friends:

shared intelligence and strategic thinking

blossom loves planning, solving problems, and thinking several steps ahead. i do too — whether it’s analyzing datasets in python, leading a stock market project, or organizing group work. we’d have a lot to talk about when it comes to strategy, logical thinking, and figuring out the best way to approach challenges.

leadership skills

she naturally steps into leadership roles, and i’ve done the same, like leading my data science project team and managing tasks under pressure. blossom would respect that i take initiative, coordinate effectively, and push projects to success.

shared work ethic

blossom is disciplined and committed to her goals, just like me. she’d probably admire my curiosity-driven approach to learning, my drive to create projects outside of school norms, and my willingness to go the extra mile to understand and apply knowledge.

balanced personality

even though she’s serious and strategic, blossom also has a fun side and cares about her friends.

i think we’d bond over our mix of brains and playful creativity, working hard but still enjoying the process and supporting each other.

conclusion

blossom and i would click because we share intelligence, strategic thinking, leadership, and a strong work ethic, while still appreciating creativity and fun. she’d probably see me as a reliable, curious, and inventive friend — someone who challenges herself and those around her to do their best.