I’m pretty sure I was tested more than once as a child, which probably means I did so poorly that I kept going back in hopes of doing better the next time.
To be honest, I have no idea what my IQ is, and quite frankly, I don’t really care.
I grew up with the albatross of being a smart, nerdy kid hanging around my neck. That should be obvious by the fact that I not only just referenced The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, but I also spelled “rime” correctly.
This might sound strange, but I wasn’t a big fan of being the smartest kid in the class. I got picked on, teased, called names, ostracized (I was probably the only kid who could properly use that word in a sentence), and left out of most of the fun.
It didn’t help that I was incredibly scrawny and looked the part of the super nerd. I understood that there were major benefits to being smart, but I also realized that it wasn’t helping me much socially.
Luckily, the bullies in my school never resorted to physical harm, so I never suffered a wedgie, got shoved into a locker, or arrived home with a black eye.
I was the lonely kid who had to resort to playing by himself after school because no one wanted to hang out with me. Of course, it didn’t help that my stepmother insisted I come right home after school and do my homework, while the other kids had fun and left the schoolwork until after dinner.
This lonely time was when I developed my talent as a writer. I could imagine incredible stories of my being the star third baseman for the Yankees while I played wiffle ball alone in the driveway.
I could turn that same narrow driveway into the corridors of the Death Star and flee attacking stormtroopers while I searched for Princess Leia.
Yes, I had learned that words hurt, but I also came to discover what a powerful weapon they could be.
Sure, there was no way I could defend myself properly if the bullies decided to throw a punch and give me a beating. But I could fight back with words.
Words because my greatest weapon. They were the skinny nerd’s version of the Jedi’s elegant lightsaber.
I’d guess that Kylo Ren grew up with a lot of inner rage from being misunderstood, bullied, and different from the other kids.
Perhaps if he had used words, rather than turning to the Dark Side to battle his foes, the Solo Family would be spending a lot more happy time together.
After too many lonely, painful years, I learned how to balance my intelligence and my social awkwardness. There was no need to be ashamed of my brains, but there was also no reason to go out of my way to flaunt my (maybe just a tad) high IQ.
I figured out that people weren’t threatened by intelligence if it was used to make them laugh. The funny guy is always welcome at social gatherings, bullies aren’t going to pick on you if you can cut them down with words and make them look foolish, and the ladies really like someone who can make them giggle.
When I was a kid, I would’ve been afraid to wander around in a toga, but now I wear it with great pride.
Yes, I am smart, I use big words, and would still rather read a good book than drink the night away with the “cool kids”.
The big difference is that now, I realize there is nothing to be ashamed of about that.
I still don’t care what my IQ is. That shouldn’t stop you from getting your IQ tested, Modern Philosophers, and this post did promise to add 10 IQ points to your score.
As always, I am a nerd of my word. Simply present the below coupon to the party administering your IQ test, and 10 points will be added to your score…
What’s the point of this blog post? Don’t be afraid to be yourself. It’s okay to be different, and you should embrace that difference rather than hiding it. Use your uniqueness to your advantage. Show the world something its never seen. Leave an impression that won’t soon be forgotten.
In most cases, people bully because they are secretly threatened or intimidated by you. Figure out how to exploit that.
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