Sofia E. (ILE)

I remember in my childhood, on winter evenings, when I walked down the street and looked up, I was struck by that vast dark sky filled with bright stars. I wanted to know: what are stars, how far away are they, what are they made of, how is everything arranged? I always wanted to know what was out there.

Later, when I grew older and went to school, I would sometimes hear people discussing political news—this country, that country. It was hard for me to imagine a complete picture of the world. But I always longed for it. I always wanted to know how everything is connected, how it all works, how it all interacts—between states, between people; how the world is built. The unknown is, for me, the main thing that sparks my interest in anything.

<...> In my life I have been fascinated by many things: forensic medicine—specifically, I was always interested in the most difficult parts, and in forensic medicine I focused on determining the time injuries were inflicted. I also studied Eastern medicine and numerology. Some things can captivate me instantly, and I can practically see how they might be applied in the future. My problem—especially in science—is that I take on too much. I need everything to make sense. If I become interested in something, I go very deep and cannot stop. People are already giving lectures, teaching courses, while I am still sorting things out, going deeper and deeper.

<...> I’ve never been interested in organizing and polishing the things I’ve developed.

I remember when I was very little, maybe three or four years old, I would watch adults when they demanded something from me or chewed things over and explained them. I would think: “Gosh, don’t they realize that I understand everything? Why are they explaining every little thing to me? I figured it all out long ago.” I had this very vivid feeling in my very early childhood.

To find out whether a person has understood something, it’s enough to ask them a question based on the material that was explained. The information given in the explanation should be sufficient for them to answer the question.

Usually, I can just see whether a person understands or not. When they do, they usually ask follow-up questions, clarify things, their eyes look “meaningful.” When they don’t understand, they either stay silent with “empty” eyes (meaning they’ve gone into a trance), or they nod appropriately and inappropriately, and when asked questions they begin to mumble something incoherent, can’t continue a thought, and don’t offer any ideas of their own.

Source: How to Raise a Child Without Complexes by O. Mikhevnina