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