The only time I achieved an A in class was in woodwork and design, but I was able to pick difficult designs. I remember my woodwork teacher saying Sarah you are the only person in class that picks a difficult design to make, Why? I did not reply, but I secretly smiled to myself because to me it was not difficult. A few months later I took the finished product home to show my dad. His reply was, Sarah the business belongs to your brother. In other words it was a waste of time trying to impress my dad. That to me was my darkest day because I was looking for a place to belong.
Zola Budd at school because I had no running shoes to speak of and looked like her. So I would run bared foot on track and take great pleasure out of running past my tormentors at secondary school. It was my escape and a dodge card to get to the showers before all the others, so I would not be bullied about my lack of breasts. I loved running, but my parents would not support this choice either. I stopped running/designing and resided to the fact I was going to be stacking shelves rather than something I enjoyed.
Now I am doing what I was supposed to be doing from the start. It is strange how we come full circle back to what gave you that first spark. Even when I do the 'Race for Life' it will have me reminiscing about where it all began.