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Two Plus Two
When I was in my thirties, my mother and Aunt Ethel said something about math. Whether or not the subject started as simply their rubbing in how bad I am at math, that is what the topic became.
Being bad at math has been a part of my “character” for as long as I could remember. My mother studied math in college and would have become a math teacher if she hadn’t… dropped out of college to marry my dad and have a baby (my brother, also skilled at math.)
I grew up with a narcissist mother who bragged endlessly how intelligent my brother was. He was obviously her favorite. I used to think it was only because he was the boy and the eldest child, but in recent years I’ve realized: he’s her mini-me. It wasn’t only her: thanks to numerous people, I grew up believing my brother was highly intelligent and that I was stupid.
But back to that math-related conversation, which came to mind while I read the final chapter of In Defense of Witches by Mona Chollet, because the author writes about how women are conditioned to be self-deprecating and believe we’re stupid. Since my early childhood, my mother and some of her siblings relished ganging up on me — all jumping on me verbally, criticizing me for the same reason… or non-reason.
My mother and Aunt Ethel may have shared snide remarks about my poor math abilities before the words I remember from that…