Gifted

She said it was due to my lack of intelligence.

That's why I'd never met her parents.

And while I'd suspected as much, it was both comforting and... stinging to hear the truth.

Oh, and she didn't respect me.

(pause)

The old me might've recoiled - recoiled and crawled away into the deepest darkest hole to lick my wounds.

Or maybe lashed out in an ape-like display - torn apart the room in a desperate, face-saving attempt to deny my shame.

The new me? Well...

M is a genius - a fact I can't deny - and I could never parallel many of her abilities.

And there was a time I delighted in those abilities like a child, seeing fireflies for the first time, their lights rising over a darkening field.

As a Naturopath, she is unsurpassed, and the result is that I am a happier, healthier person - for which I owe her a great deal.

Most of all, however, I owe her for her words.
Those final words.
And the truth.

***

Soon after her pronouncement, M asked me - quite sincerely - why I am such an angry person.

Humor seems the appropriate response.

"No reason. Why do you ask?" I wish I'd said, which brings a chuckle to my lips even now.

But I would be lying if I said there was no anger.

There is, to be sure, but rather than the mindless sort, it feels like a fortification, a reinforcement of myself.

It feels like... determination.

Maybe even self-determination.

What happens next - I have no idea.

But for now, I am truly grateful.

*Oh, and while I'm no Einstein, I was tested for language ability in 5th grade and found to be... advanced. The word genius was tossed around, but who knows. I mentioned this to M who said:

"Genius! What is that? 140 something?" as she flapped her hands. "I'm in the 200's!"