2008 — Age 18
I never told anyone I was studying for the GED.
Not because I was ashamed — but because the world had already formed its verdict about me: distracted, chaotic, inconsistent, “too much potential, not enough follow-through.”
So I studied in silence.
At night.
With about a hundred prep books (bought in secret), a dying pen, and my brain doing that electric-storm thing it does when my ADHD decides to turn into a superpower.
When I finally sat for the test, the staff kept glancing at me like they knew how the story usually ends for girls like me — bright eyes, tired spirit, a transcript full of interruptions.
Then the scores came.
One of the administrators actually did a double-take.
Another asked if I’d ever considered college-level research work.
Someone else whispered, “We’ve never seen this version of the exam scored this high.”
But the real earthquake?
My father.
He was livid when he found out I’d taken the GED behind his back — furious that I’d stepped out of the traditional plan he’d drawn for me.
Until he saw the scores.
His face shifted in real time:
anger → confusion → disbelief → something dangerously close to pride.
For the first time, it felt like the universe stamped a gold seal on the truth I had always carried quietly:
✨ I am not behind. I am not broken.
I was simply unrecognized brilliance waiting for a moment of silence to prove itself.
And I did. Or did I?
UnderTheRock Diaries 