The Effects of Giftedness

Intelligence is held in the highest regard in our society- something that is prized and cherished. Therefore, being identified as intellectually “gifted” is seen as something to be very proud of. However, there are special “downsides” and considerations to be had for gifted children that deserve attention and exploration. Just because a child is intelligent does not mean they will not struggle. 

I am dedicating this very personal and informal article to parents of gifted children and to other gifted adults- to share my experiences in the hopes of providing some light.

At the age of six, I was a behavioral-issue child in the first grade. My home life was in crisis and I took it out on the school environment. I was considered a bully and a disturbance to my classmates. I was in trouble all of the time- until my teacher was talking to the school counselor and mentioned that she thought I was displaying these behaviors due to boredom. I completed my work too quickly, I got frustrated with peers for understanding content too slowly, and I would rebel against my teacher for teaching too slowly. When asked about this theory by the counselor and teacher, I bluntly told my teacher I was smarter than her. And so the testing began.

I was supposed to be tested for a variety of behavioral disorders. However, I completed a WISC assessment first, received the gifted label, and that was that. It was decided that I didn’t have a behavioral disorder- I was intellectually gifted and bored. From then on, my childhood became solely about my school accomplishments.

I was allowed to skip second grade and enter third as a seven year old. I continued to excel- making it to the state spelling bee that year and finishing in 3rd. Fourth and fifth grade were more of the same- top of my class, never a grade below an A, enrolled in meaningless “gifted and talented” programs. 

In sixth grade I began to get bored again, and so the learning specialist of the school decided to try a method with me called curriculum compacting. I was given all of the work- tests, homework, assignments, etc- for each year and each subject and put into an independent study. I finished sixth, seventh, and eighth grade in one year by myself.

Then at 11 I entered high school. I had a high school teacher tell us on the first day of school that we would relearn the same things again in college that we were learning with her- and I decided I didn’t want to waste my time. I went to the principal’s office later that week and requested to begin attending college. She met with me a few times, learned my history, and we began coordinating meetings with the local college. My parents were not aware of my request until the process was underway (I hadn’t realized I should tell them) but became supportive as they always were, and eventually everyone signed off to send me to college at 12.

At 16 I completed my bachelor’s Summa Cum Laude and then 3 weeks later graduated from high school first in my class. I was all over the news, I received state and national awards and recognition, and I am still the youngest college graduate ever in Colorado. At 16 I became an adult in every way except age. 

And then I crashed and burned.

I am not regretful that I had the experiences I did. I am grateful that I was given the opportunity many others would have loved to have, I am grateful I had the ability to succeed, and I am very happy where I am now. However, if I can help other gifted children be better supported through their journeys I would love to.

Once I completed the WISC- my intelligence overruled any other sort of emotions or feelings I had. I was expected to excel in every area. Some of the expectations were from others, some were my own. But nobody ever thought to check in on me as long as my grades were As. And they always were. I prioritized school over everything else, and keeping up in that realm meant everything else got swept under the rug.

My identity as a person was always the “genius” girl. I went back and forth between liking and hating that. When I was introduced to a new person, the person talking always mentioned my skipping grades/being in college young as the first part about me. It was hard to be anything else. I felt that I couldn’t relate to anyone, causing me to become closed off to everyone socially.

I also could never enjoy any hobbies or activities because I had the expectation that I couldn’t be bad- even from day one. I had to be the best. I have played every sport, done every extracurricular activity in existence, and quit every single time after a couple of months. As an adult, I have had to teach myself to be okay with mediocrity in life, as that was never mentioned to me.

My family is wonderful, and they supported me the best they could. But I got into trouble my first semester in college when I got a C on a paper and my principal held a meeting with me to chastise me for this. People were counting on me. I had to skip family events to do school work. People were counting on me. I was a disappointment when I chose to drop out of law school. I couldn’t become what they wanted of me.

Nobody ever offered any mental health support to me growing up. Nobody noticed a need.

In third grade, my grandmother died- and we were very close. She died at 3am the morning of very important state standardized testing. I was told that my scores would be personally monitored by the learning specialist in order to ensure that moving me ahead a grade was the right choice- so I knew I had to perform well. They were counting on me. So, I went to school that day and did the testing, despite not sleeping the night before and grieving.

In fourth grade, a classmate received a score 2 points higher on a test. He boasted about “beating the genius”, how he must be smarter than me, how he should get to skip grades. I cried because I felt like the fraud he was accusing me of. I felt guilty that I had received an opportunity others hadn’t- and I wasn’t deserving of it.

In fifth grade, I had my first crush on a boy. My friend went and told him I liked him. He told her he liked pretty girls- not smart girls. That comment led to a spiral which eventually let me to develop a severe eating disorder from the ages of twelve to seventeen. 

In sixth grade, I had no friends because I spent all of my time in a classroom by myself. All day every day, I was alone and expected to teach myself without any help. I was isolated in order to academically excel, and in doing so lost my ability to remain social. Until adulthood, I would become mute around strangers or in uncomfortable situations- unable to speak or move- from this.

In high school the next year, I got asked out by a boy. I was 11 and he was 15, but we were in the same grade. He did not know my age. I told him my age- which caused drama and embarrassment. I became undateable through graduation, tearing down my self esteem and making me feel unwanted. 

After graduation at 16, I finally let all of the pressure and anxieties and struggles rise to the surface. I moved out of my parents’ house on bad terms. I made bad friends. I made poor choices. I ended up in very unsafe situations and had bad things happen to and around me. I let myself fall apart and my future crumble.

At 18, I broke out of this lifelong fog of polarity and finally decided I could live in the middle of extremely successful and extremely unsuccessful. I didn’t need to be perfect and overwhelmingly successful- but I also didn’t need to make bad choices just to find acceptance. As a spur of the moment decision one morning, I packed up my car and moved in with the only friend I had. She introduced me to her brother and now I’m married to him. That month I started my master’s degree, started earning experience for my career, and stopped every bad behavior. 

As an adult, my friends and community do not know that I am a genius. Some of my friends don’t even know what I do for work. None of them know about my “giftedness”- and I am happy with that. My identity gets to be other parts of me, and I no longer feel pressured to win at everything. I don’t have to pretend to be dumb in order to fit in- I can be myself without my intelligence being assessed or weighed in any way. I don’t have to have the fanciest job or best life- I finally learned I can just be happy wherever I land. And I am.

Nonetheless, all of these experiences I mentioned, and dozens more, caused damage to me socially, emotionally, and mentally. I have an anxiety disorder to this day caused by a need to be perfect- creating a fear of losing at anything, a fear of new activities, and a fear of being in trouble or doing any wrong. Everyone in my life expected so much out of me that I struggle with feeling like a failure for not becoming the rocket scientist they expected, even though I am so happy with my life. I still struggle in social situations- partially due to anxiety, partially due to never being properly socialized growing up- and I fear I will never get to have close friends. My giftedness took so much from me that people don’t see- they only see the success.

Parents- allow your child to form an identity separate from their academic life. Find them spaces where others do not have to know about their intellectual giftedness so that they can breathe. Never pressure them to succeed or perform. Encourage their failures. Allow them to be gifted in ways that allow their academic life to flourish- but their overall childhood to remain the same. They are children only once- and academic advancement shouldn’t steal that.

And to other grown up, burnt out gifted kids- you’re not alone. You don’t have to continually prove your intelligence. You can move on at any time and be yourself. You can spell words wrong, misunderstand jokes, make senseless errors, and be more than one thing.

I still have a lot to learn and move on from. I have been enjoying therapy and the “boredom” of a normal life. If I could change one thing about my childhood- I wish I had been given an outlet for my feelings. A therapist. Someone I could open up to about these hundreds of issues and emotions I had- someone who could tell me things would be okay. I often wonder how much better I would feel now if I had that. 

Regardless, I am happy and okay now- and could not possibly care less about my IQ. A number is just a number- it doesn’t need to represent me. I wish I had been told that sooner.

Kyndal Sims

Birch Psychology