Words, not numbers, please.

I’ve grown up in a household where my mum has been a maths teacher for two spells, tutors maths for as long as I can remember, and now runs a small business teaching maths to kids of various ages/stages; I was always destined to be good with numbers.

This year I’ve found myself studying advanced higher maths. Yeah, crazy. Particularly crazy when I realise that, in all seriousness, I hate maths. I used to be reassured by the fact that there’s only one right answer; that there is always a logical path to take. Now I find that soulless and boring.

I’m lucky enough to have a bit of a knack for languages too, and as the years have passed I’ve realised more and more that I really enjoy them, and that they are what I really enjoy at school. Words have definitions, interpretations, derivations and variants that fascinate me. There’s culture woven into vocabularies, there’s history. None of that in numbers. They are just cold, empty digits.

I’m glad that I’ve found what interests me, not my parents. It’s just a shame it took me so long to realise.