I loved to dance when I was growing up. From ballet to street, I thought I was decent enough, but I always struggled with remembering my steps and understanding counts. When I was eight years old, my tap dance teacher asked me in front of our class if I was stupid because I could not remember the steps that she had shown to me several times. I remember feeling incredibly hurt and embarrassed, and I decided I no longer wanted to take any of her classes. When my mother asked her to explain herself, she claimed it was because she only wanted the best for me and wanted me to do well in her class.
Throughout school I had my strengths and weaknesses. I favoured essay writing but struggled with maths and languages. I had a slow start but managed to push myself towards good grades and the top sets. However, I was a weird child; I didn’t like when certain textures of foods touched each other, I would stare at those in class who continuously tapped their pencil on the table or hummed until they stopped, and if they didn’t, I would tell them to.
People talking in silent areas would really annoy me. I cut out the labels from all of my clothes as they irritated my skin, and I constantly got overwhelmed with my thoughts of failure and always felt embarrassed about minor things. I easily found myself lost, even when using maps or having been to a place several times before, because most of the time I forgot to concentrate on what I was doing so when it came to approaching places again it was like starting somewhere new.