Recently I've been having moments where memories suddenly appear very clearly to me. Perhaps it's because I am not worrying so much about the things I used to. There are a few particular memories that I have been (unfortunately) ruminating over.

One of them is about a conversation I had with a teacher in secondary school. I don't think I've told this story to others before, but the memory of it is so fresh today in a way that it wasn't 2 years ago. My English teacher called me up one day and she asked me, " Do you like writing or do you just happen to be good at it?." It is only now that I appreciate her wisdom in not assuming that everybody who writes well, is particularly interested in it.

I replied that I did and she told me, "Because I think you have a lot potential. But if you don't practise and receive the write training you will remain an unpolished diamond."

To put things in context, I went to the kind of school where everyone speaks good English all the time and to some degree (whether we care to admit it or not) we are all closet elitists. I don't I was the best writer in the class, there were people who wrote better than me, but it is fair to say that I was among the best.

I didn't think much of her comments because I was preoccupied with something else. I probably couldn't tell you what it is exactly that I thought was more significant at the time if my life depended on it, but it was important to me at the time. And I'm not saying that what people think is important when they are young is any less significant than what they consider to be significant when they are older. The point is I didn't pay attention to what she said even though I really should have.

I remember that about a year later it was my last day at secondary school and there was an assembly at the auditorium. After the assembly the principals came to speak with the girls who were leaving the school for the Integrate Programme. After even they had gone, my Chemistry teacher pulled me aside, hugged me tight and told me with tears in her eyes that she thought it was a loss to the school to lose a student like me. She then told me not to be afraid of what the future holds.

That was the impression I made as a fourteen-year-old. But you know what, I couldn't see how outstanding I was. I just couldn't see it. And this blindess I believe has greatly shaped many of the choices I've made in the years that followed.

At this point I'd like to say that I am not exaggerating any part of those two stories although I am certain there will be people who believe that I am.

Almost 6 years have passed. It's just I've been having a few days when I am really wondering what would have happened if I'd worked hard at writing and reading from the time I was 13. Would I be amazing? I know intuitively that there is no point on dwelling on the past and 'what ifs' but I do think that it is important that accept that I have such doubts and insecurtiies.

Why am I writing about these memories? Do I want sympathy? No, I am probably too proud to ask for sympathy. Do I want encouragement? Perhaps. I can't understand why anyone would say not encouragement, unless of course it is false. I think the reason why I wrote this is because I wanted to ask this question( and I sincerely hope someone will write a reply to me): Why are we blindness to the goodness of people? And most importantly why are we so blind to the goodness within ourselves? Why do we systematically break ourselves down? I mean we know we do it, but why? And with such a high price.

I don't really have an ending in mind for this post. But if people tell me their own thoughts on this topic or anything related to it I promise to write another one.

P.S. I am not depressed or anything like that I am just being introspective about something that bothers me.

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