I can honestly say that when I think about maths, I get a horrible sick feeling in the very pit of my stomach. There are no nice happy butterflies but instead angry horrible moths banging around trying to run away from the situation at hand.

It wasn’t always like this. At one point in my life I use to love maths. In fact, I couldn’t get enough of it. You could ask all of my primary teachers and I bet they will tell you as I will, I loved maths.

• I was the child in class who would become beyond competitive when the teacher announced that to fill up the last ten minutes of the day, we would play a game of ‘Around the World’ in a maths context. I had to win. I had to prove my maths skills.
• I was in the top maths group, and eased through all activities set before me. If someone else was stuck they would come to me for help and advice on how to tackle the tricky puzzle.

I thought I knew how to do maths, I thought it was my friend.

Then, as can happen in some friendships, a silent unknown argument occurred between us and all of a sudden maths was no longer there for me. Long disappeared the sums I could look at and instantaneously see a pathway to an answer. Suddenly, my certificates that I had been given by becoming top reciter of the times tables, had no real value or important in the next establishment of life. But in its place was rigorous maths testing, placement of ability and numbers that made no sense in my mind.

I struggled through, directly in front of me was the biggest mud patch I had ever seen in my life. Wellington boots on at the ready and off I went to try and cross. But with each step I took I struggled to remove my foot afterwards, and as soon as I could remove it to step again I just I sunk deeper and deeper down into the patch. No one to help me out. No one to save me.

I did try to ask for help, don’t get me wrong, I did try. But when you are in that classroom with another 20 odd people who all see no point in maths anyway and mock you for trying to figure out the maths, you stay quiet. Peer pressure at high school in today’s society is such an influencer in how you choose to act. And many people tend to forget this. I know several people who felt judged throughout their high school career and kept silent because of this. Why does it have to be like this? Why can’t we all just enjoy learning without judgement.

I use to feel that I couldn’t show weakness in that class, to me it was like a mathematical Hunger Games, look like you know what you are doing and it will all be okay. But it wasn’t. Yes, I got the grades that I needed in the end but it was an experience that I never want to relive in my life. I was stressed constantly, and what for? All for some numbers. Looking back on it, it shouldn’t have been like that. I wish I could go back and tell myself that it would all be okay someday.

Still to this day, I dread maths because of it all. I become panicked when asked a question so simple that a primary child could answer it. All because of those four years of maths. It seems like such a short amount of time in comparison to life, but to me it seemed to drag on forever. It has influenced how I view maths and trust me, I wish I didn’t have that cloud hovering above me constantly.

I didn’t want to participate in the maths module and I will honestly open my hands up to that fact. When I first viewed the optional module list I automatically said no to maths. There was no thinking needed, it was a no. But in a turn of events it became the module that I found myself on.

I hope that over the course of the next year, I will become more comfortable when it comes to maths. I will be overjoyed just to be able to say I am that tiny bit more confident in my maths skills, or even to have a more positive outlook on maths itself. I feel that this module will be the first step to that, as the module isn’t about how to do maths but instead discovering how maths surrounds us in everyday life.

Image: http://blog.polipay.co.nz/Going%20Mad%20reconciling.jpg