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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at IU chapter.

Everyday, I sit in my statistics class and find myself completely lost. My professor speaks; I listen; yet I ultimately remain confused. And this doesn’t just go for my stat class now; this has been a perpetual problem going on for as long as I can remember. Math is truly my worst enemy.

It has been the biggest struggle. Tutor after tutor, and F after F, math is seemingly impossible for me. The concepts blend together, equations don’t add up, and answers are not found. I guess numbers are just not in my forte. If there is one thing in life I’ll never understand, it’s math.

Now I know my negative attitude doesn’t necessarily help my cause either, but I’ve simply given up hope. Math and I have been in an abusive relationship since the second grade and I’ve had enough. I’m sick of its exponents, square roots, and parentheses. Its polynomials and matrices. Its theorems and variables. It doesn’t even text or call me back, so math, it’s time we break up. I’m sorry, it’s not me, it’s you.

Whether it’s algebra or geometry, finite or stat, my best attempts get me nowhere. I’ll study for hours and will end up more confused than when I started. I’m not going to be a scientist; I am not going to cure cancer, so why is it important that I graph a linear equation? Which, by the way, I still don’t know how to do.

Math always finds a way to bring me down too, and exams, in particular, are a huge kick to the ego. It’s a guarantee I blank out and forget everything that I’d studied. It’s only the best feeling, opening up an exam and not knowing how to answer the very first problem. I love it! And the SATs… wow, that was an ultimate low. I was convinced that college was out of the question.

I always wished I’d be more like my brother when it came to math. It comes so easily for him, it’s second nature. He could do my homework without thinking twice. However, for me, math is like reading Mandarin– a collection of symbols and letters that bear no meaning. How can anyone make sense of it?

Thankfully, my days of continuous agonizing are coming to end. This semester marks the end of an era—my last math class. Statistics is my last mathematical requirement necessary for my major. Hallelujah.

I don’t even want to know the cumulative cost we’ve spent on math tutors over the years. It must amount to more than Beyonce herself. So thank you Mom and Dad, and I’m sorry for the potential bankruptcy we may have to file.

But as this chapter in my life closes, I get to look back at so many great memories. I’ve cried, I’ve stressed, I’ve failed; it’s been one hell of a ride. Wait, what am I saying? Screw you math. You’ve made me miserable for the past 19 years. So long and good riddance.

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