Puzzle is such a cool word. I have a friend who called one of her dogs Puzzle and I thought that was totally awesome. I made a mental note to store it away for the future when the dog rescue gets a dog in without a name or needs to change it because someone thought it was funny to call the dog something like Meatloaf. However, despite loving the word I hate puzzles. The name sounds like it would be so much fun, but it’s a trap.
My sister loves puzzles and as a kid would do them all the time and super fast. I tried to participate, but my brain would have none of it. I would stare and stare at the pieces, looking at the colors and the different angles, but almost every time I tried to connect them they weren’t a match. And what was more frustrating was when I’d start to bring two pieces close together my sister would barely glance at them and would say “those aren’t going to fit.” I of course had to prove her wrong so I’d put the two pieces together and often would push them towards each other really hard trying to force them to be partners. But, just like stubborn teenagers they would have none of it and would repel like magnets. “See.” my sister would say. She wasn’t being mean about it, but I still felt like a loser and was defeated every time as it was a reminder of the shortcomings of my brain.
I gave up participating in puzzles with her pretty quickly after realizing I was fighting a losing battle and getting hurt in the process. I would never admit this to my sister, but I was jealous she was able to form these beautiful images of the beach, cupcakes, kittens–all kinds of things so effortlessly.
I now have nothing wrong with the fact that puzzles and Gibby just don’t get along. I’m good at a lot of other things and putting together puzzles is not one of them. It took me a long time to realize that was totally ok.