I've never truly liked school. But I never hated it either, until I turned ten.

By that time I had just moved into a new place and my mom was super stressed with keeping my little bro and sis on their schedules and doing chores and stuff. So she started to drift from me. It was time for me to be independent, at least according to her.

As you probably know, I'm homeschooled, and so she was my teacher AND mom. But she was also busy with keeping the house in order while teaching her other students who were younger than me. So she gave me my math and stuff and told me to do a lesson a day.

Then she left me alone to do it.

If I could go back in time and change what I did, my view of school might be entirely different. I know that sounds dramatic, but it's true. I was an immature little kid who had just been handed freedom to do school whenever I wanted.

I started to not take math seriously. It was something I would put off and then rush to do at the end of the day. As a result I did poorly. I dreaded doing math to the point where I wouldn't do it.

Then finally my mother did a checkup on me and checked the math program I was using. I still remember the fear and shame I felt when she looked at my grades and at my unfinished lessons. She was really calm, scarily calm, and then told me something that I knew was coming but still dreaded.

"You need to do this grade over."

After many tear-filled apologies I agreed that I had done horribly. We erased all of my work and started from scratch. My mom clamped down hard on me, checking every lesson and sometimes watching me do my math by sitting next to me. That caused a lot of stress to build up, believe me.

Though I had done all of the lessons before I couldn't remember anything. I did really badly again, and it would sometimes take me hours to finish one lesson which should've only taken a half an hour. I can still remember sitting at my desk, crying until I felt dizzy.

Meanwhile, my little sister excelled at math, skipping a grade and almost catching up to me.

When I finally finished the grade, I had passed, but barely. I was still a grade behind public schoolers my age and it felt like fog that followed me everywhere.

I know his sounds super dramatic but it's truly how I felt at the time.

I worked away at my math for years, and it was tough for me. I still wasn't doing too well, and it took me a while to catch up.

Now I'm caught up, but I still feel the effects of my immaturity back then.

I constantly feel like I'm failing when I do math. I've cried countless times because I had to do it, and I've still got a habit of putting it off.

I think it's my self esteem that's the issue.

Math feels like a burden to me, like an enemy that's constantly winning. But to be honest, I'm not that bad at it anymore. I rarely get anything below a ninety. But when I get those questions wrong I feel so bad, like I failed the entire thing.

I once almost broke down because I got two questions wrong. I have literal panic attacks when I have to do a test.

I never feel happy when I finish a lesson with a ninety-six I only feel dread and a tiny bit of relief now that the lesson is over.

Sometimes I try to blame my mom for not making me study more back then, but truthfully it's my fault. If me in the past hadn't been so immature I might not have such a problem.

I constantly feel like I'm worse at math than everyone else. And it's my fault not theirs.

I feel like I was forced to be independent too soon. You can't just give a ten year old school books and expect them to do them everyday with a willing smile! I think most of them wouldn't keep themselves accountable, just like I did.

And now that I'm a teen I'm expected even more now to be independent with my school. My mom doesn't do anything with me anymore, she just gives me the school books. I think there are advantages to that, but it's also super stressful.

Anyway, I'm sorry about the long rant, I just needed to let out some emotions right now.