Hi Beth,
I was always bright, creative and a good writer. Early teachers spotted it.
But...I was terribly sensitive and sad, and bullied intensely by female peers (until college, when I fell in love with everybody and have had good friends ever since).
In the early days, after 7 years of bottom-of-pecking-order, my despair (didn't know what depression was) grew so intense that in 9th grade, I gave up. I failed every class except English (was smuggling novels in to read during class), and had to repeat the year. The next fall all the "old girls" marched past the classroom door and said, "What are you doing in there with the babies?" It was a tiny school so there was no place to hide.
Anyway, that was failure. Big huge undeniable failure.
In hindsight I'm not sure how I survived it. I remember overwhelming daily pain. But I did.
And now...I'm less rocked off my feet when I have other failures. I know it happens and finally, I know it does not measure me.
love and comfort and solidarily,
Hops