I Am My Only TeacherI was homeschooled during my early years by my mom. Those were hard days. I would get miserable and cry when learning new concepts, and my mother would get increasingly frustrated with my apparently 'slow' learning, sparking more miserable reactions from me. Mathematics was especially trying. By the time I was 12, I was pretty much in charge of my whole education, and I could learn at my own pace. I had lots of textbooks and books. We lived a couple blocks from the library, and I was free to go whenever I wanted. I would study maths some days for 8 hours, and by the time I turned 15 I was completely confident in it. It was a comforting feeling, knowing I had as many hours as I needed to understand a new concept. I'd stay holed up in my room, lying on the floor, studying, all day, coming down for meals slightly grudgingly. If I didn't understand the textbook, I'd just fiddle with problem after problem of the same nature, trying to understand how it worked. Before I turned 15 I had completed textbooks in algebra, geometry, trig, and calculus. And I was happier than ever within myself.
The story doesn't end so well, but this part of it certainly taught me that I am my own best teacher, and that I should embrace it. I am in love with myself. I am so grateful for my own patience with myself. Thank heavens for good teachers.