I had that same problem when I moved to Puerto Rico from Massachusetts, USA. The work I did in the 7th grade here felt like 5th and sometimes even 4th grade work. Even in college I still saw a lot of work that I had either done years before or had learned on my own through books.

I didn’t speak to anyone except in English for the entire first year that I was here. None of them could figure out how the “gringa” was getting the highest score in Spanish class if I couldn’t speak the language. I knew how; I just lacked confidence.

Another thing they rejected me for was a very pronounced limp. I had broken my leg the year before we moved here and one of my tendons (in spite of physical therapy) was too short. They called me “Saltamontes”; grasshopper. Kids are charming, huh?

All through high school, most people mostly talked to me if they wanted me to do their English homework. Since I was really poor, I started charging a nickel per paragraph. That didn’t help me get friends, of course, but at least I wasn’t being used completely.

By the 10th grade I only had 2 or 3 friends I could trust and the rest all thought I was sleeping with one of the student teachers. Even the other teachers thought it was true because I spent a lot of time with him. He was brilliant and honestly I rarely found anyone my own age that was capable of an intelligent conversation. They were all talking about sex and what a “slut” I was; I was generally with Ricardo talking about philosophy (his passion) or music (mine). One of life’s painful ironies.

I was insecure enough that I placed my self-worth in the hands of others all the time. I especially thought that the fact that I didn’t have a boyfriend meant there was something terribly wrong with me. Hector, who came here at age 14 from New Jersey, says that there were lots of guys that liked me but most of them were intimidated by me. The rest didn’t want to be involved with me because I was so unpopular, so I know how that feels, too. When Hector first told me this about 2 months ago, I didn’t believe him. My brother David confirmed it, though, and says many of his old friends have said to him (even recently) “I had such an awful crush on your sister back in school, but I didn’t have the guts to tell her”. And I thought I was worthless.

Life’s too short to think too much about what others think of you. I’ve had 3 boyfriends in my life; one abused me physically, two emotionally. I allowed them to measure my worth. I’ve stopped allowing that. I’m the only judge now. And I like myself.