You know that feeling when numbers just click?

When 2 + 2 = 4, and it’s the only thing that makes perfect sense in your world?

Math found me early.

Or maybe I found it.

I was seven, sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor, surrounded by worksheets like a protective fort.

See, math had rules. Clear, unchanging rules. Unlike home, where rules shifted like shadows on a wall.

Here’s what I learned:

• A completed math assignment = a quiet evening
• Perfect test scores = no questions asked
• Extra credit problems = extra time away from chaos

I became really, really good at math. Not because I was naturally gifted, but because being “good-at-math” meant safety.

Teachers smiled. Parents nodded.

Between you and me? Sometimes I still solve equations when the world gets too loud.

Numbers never yell. They never change their minds. They never make you feel small. 2 + 2 will always equal 4, even when nothing else makes sense.

P.S. Years later, when writing my debut novel “Road Theory,” I gave my character Ivala Phoenix this same coping mechanism. Sometimes our deepest wounds become our characters’ armor. ✨