a thought: I'm not good at numbers, and neither should you be
on online pressures and the joy of being bad at math
I am 1.63 meters tall/short.
I travel 13.15 hours by plane to see my parents.
I graduated with a 2.1 for my bachelor’s in the UK.
I graduated with a 4.21 for my master’s in Poland.
I am my parent’s 2nd child, and their 1st (and only) daughter.
I weight 53.4 kilos (as of two months ago).
I spend a daily average of 5.7 hours on my phone.
I am currently reading a book that’s 330 pages long.
I have added over 49 post-it notes to said pages.
I have four variaties of tea in my pantry.
I will be 24 when I graduate from my second master’s degree.
Safe to say, I know a few numbers. Many of these numbers are drilled into my identity, whether it be on my passport, government family book, or official documents.
Yet, a number of them are not, and should not ever be. I’m not necessarily talking about the 13.15 hours it takes to get home to my parents (Oslo-Amsterdam and Amsterdam-Cape Town). I mean sure, my parents will eventually move, so this number is temporary.
When I write of numbers that should exist in a realm outside my identity, I’m mainly addressing these:
I graduated with a 2.1 for my bachelor’s in the UK.
I graduated with a 4.21 for my master’s in Poland.
I weight 53.4 kilos as of two months ago.
I will be 24 when I graduate from my second master’s.
Numbers that has socially been so deeply intertwined with success, one way or another. Academic prowess, health and youth have been the subject to so many discourses connected to identity. With that comes pressure: the pressure to measure up to certain numbers. If you can just aim high enough, just shrink yourself small enough, just accomplish it young enough…
The discourse about numbers is never-ending. Numbers seem to have always had a certain status of truth. We are formatted to believe that math overides philosophy in matters of fact. That math is the one rule applicable to all.
Perhaps that is why I am grateful that I was never good at math. Grateful that I used to write stream of consciousness poetry while in physics. If I have always been bad at math, then the so-called status of truth is one I am most unfamiliar with. One that doesn’t override my way of thinking and approaching the world.
I do not know how much I currently weight, and won’t until I am back home in a few months.
I am not aware of my current grades, and most likely won’t know my “academic prowess” until I receive my next diploma.
I am not aware of how many subscribers I have on substack, although I am grateful for each and every single one of them.
I have no idea how much time I spend on my computer, and I frankly don’t care.
I do not know how many followers I have on social media. I don’t even know how many friends I have in real life.
I have no knowledge of how often I spend time in cafes, or libraries, or clubs.
I am not aware of how many likes, shares, restacks have been made in response to my words.
I have no idea how much money I’ve spent on my kindle library, or books in general.
I do not have a TBR list, a specific subscriber/follower goal to reach, or a word deadline I’ve set for my thesis.
I do not measure myself with a ruler of academic prowess, health and youth. I do not measure myself at all. I do not seek to know numbers that could potentially enforce any type of pressure, so I’m simply not good at numbers - and I do hope neither are you!
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Love,
Anastasia
I like looking at numbers to motivate myself to work towards something. None of them give me pressure. If they do I will throw them under a bus.
The numbers that dwindle are the ones that always seem to bother me and the ones I wish to discard. I definitely don’t identify as having $200 in the bank.
Maths is and was my best subject at school (I was a stem girl) but I didn’t enjoy it. I passed up the chance to have a ‘high paying job’ to study literature and I do not regret it one bit 💛