So I’m guessing you started life pretty much the same way you did.
The little girl me was brilliant.
(And cute af too, look at me werking my new homemade dress for Easter!)
I aced exams with ease. I read voraciously. I had musical talent. I loved to learn.
Basically I excelled at this school shizzle. I’m amazing at stuff with rules.
Except stuff involving a ball and rules, was terrible at any team sport or anything that involved much physical effort other than dancing. (Dancing doesn’t count because it has music. That’s the rules, I don’t make the rules).
But I was a brilliant precocious child. Not the “starting an Oxbridge master’s degree at age 12” brilliant. But just your average top of the school year brilliant kid.
Even though I was consistent year in, year out, school always seemed surprised that I could excel. As if teachers had a small story about what a little girl with brown skin and fuzzy hair was capable of achieving.
Constantly underestimated. Constantly over achieving.
Then, as you age, you start to believe some of the limited stories people have about your life and you begin to forget your brilliance.
Turns out that what made us a success at school doesn’t transfer that well to adulthood. The workplace isn’t actually a meritocracy, your individual brilliance doesn’t count for a lot and actually starts getting in your way. (At this point in my life, I’m assuming every brilliant woman I meet has worked for a hopelessly over promoted mediocre white man.)
Teamworking is a big thing, but also being politically savvy, and having a face that fits. We can learn the rules but sometimes its different rules for us than it is for them.
So we hit middle age, even without rules, we’ve managed to raise a couple of kids without too many mishaps. And, if looking at the next stretch of life makes you wonder, is this it? Maybe, just maybe this is just the time to tap into those dreams that brilliant kid had and reimagine a brighter, bigger future, both inside and outside the workplace.