I understand why I was fed this lie. Wouldn’t it be unicorns and rainbows if we lived in a world where everyone got a fa

I arrived at this date, a desperate, middle-aged woman, floundering in the wake of a divorce. I left feeling different, somehow changed. I wouldn’t say that I left with 100% more self-assuredness—but I left feeling more secure than when I showed up.

The nuns in my life meant well, but they did a great disservice by teaching me “never to see color.” Choosing not to “see” people was the whole reason Oedipus had to gouge out his eyes. It’s a lesson we all sometimes forget.

But at the end of the academic year, the teacher announced that she would not be averaging our paper grades to give us a letter grade. Instead, we would have private “conferences” with her to advocate for the grade we thought we deserved.

Study after study has failed to find a link between academic and career success. The only skill the straight-A student masters is rogue memorization. Examples of geniuses with poor grades abound. Steve Jobs had a 2.65 highschool GPA. Albert Einstein graduated 4th in his class out of five physicists. Beethoven never learned to multiply or divide. Too often, a letter grade fails to codify creative intelligence.

And then it struck me. Yes, Justin’s female friend had passed me something through her body: her self-confidence. Why had I put up with this behavior? I bid Justin adieu shortly thereafter.

Home beckoned. Stupidly, I stayed. If you’ve ever inched through L.A. traffic to get somewhere, you might understand. It took me an hour to reach this coffee shop. I wasn’t raring to get back into my car just to drive home. But that meant waiting there like an idiot for Justin to finish up with his meeting with another woman.

It was 6:30 when the woman finally got up to leave. Through the coffee-shop window, I watched her saunter toward the door, her gait graceful. No, she didn’t notice me. I was standing on the other side of a window — but I saw her.

As parents, we lie to our children in harmless ways. We tell them Santa Claus is watching because we want them to stop acting like cloven-hooved demons. We warn them if they cross their eyes, their eyes will get stuck because their twisted faces gross us out. And we may even occasionally teach them they will get scurvy if they don’t eat their vegetables. (I had some explaining to do once my daughter learned third-grade science.)

Look at that svelte, yoga pant-clad body. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to rush their date! I had to take my turn with Justin after this woman? That was like asking me to take a spin on the ice right after an Olympic gold medalist had just turned a triple axel. I was going to fall flat on my ass! I was going to make a fool of myself.

I went inside, walked back to where Justin was seated and slid into the booth right across from him. I sat in the place where his female friend had just been. I swore I could still feel the heat from her body on the cushion — and that sickened me. It was as if her warmth could transmit some kind of communicable disease.

I am not suggesting parents let their kids fail or tell them not to work hard. But when parents stress testing and letter grades, children can lose sight of vital interpersonal and intrapersonal skills they will need to succeed.

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I arrived at this date, a desperate, middle-aged woman, floundering in the wake of a divorce. I left feeling different, somehow changed. I wouldn’t say that I left with 100% more self-assuredness—but I left feeling more secure than when I showed up.

I texted again that I was outside, then waved frantically so he’d see me through the window. He spotted me and we made eye contact. I assumed this would give him the push he needed to end his date. To my utter shock, he texted back. “Give me a second.”

The woman he was meeting with was small and thin. I was tall and gangly — awkward. At least that’s how I felt. No wonder he wanted to stick with her! My mind began to work on overdrive.