Immunology test for 40% of my grade – done. I can’t say that went especially well, but I knew some things.

Perhaps the most pervasive thing about having failed… repeatedly… is that even the smallest success feels uncomfortable. Even with a little confidence back, there’s this incredulous feeling when I get something right, and then I double check it, thinking, “Surely there must be some mistake.” Or when I say something aloud that makes sense, my brain says, “Are you sure? That sounds like something a smart person would say – you probably better backpedal or something.” Messed up, right?!

And it doesn’t just apply to school. When Zoe seems well-adjusted or does something reflecting her obvious brilliance, or if I’ve completed a workout, gotten to bed on time, checked things off my to-do list, or made an especially great cookie… It’s like “Once in a Lifetime” by Talking Heads. “How did I get here?… This is not my beautiful [life].”

I have to keep reminding myself that we are what we do. I’m a mom to a beautiful child. I’m in medical school, and I will be a doctor. In August I decided these things, that it was a matter of when, not if. It is just taking a little longer than I would have expected to condition myself. I need to be comfortable with that and act the part – no, BE the part. And really it isn’t up to anyone else. I’ve sat around wishing I were this way or that way, and really except for a few physical impossibilities, I can be whatever, however, whoever I want.* Once I’ve done something consistently, I am that way. Make good grades – you make good grades. Be a good mom – you’re a good mom.

On that note, I’m headed for a run. I run.

*I recognize that there are many, many things in place that allow me this freedom.