The 3 Degrees of Frustration?

No, this has nothing to do with the 6 degrees of separation.  It actually has to do with 3 degrees, college degrees.  Degrees that are supposed to be milestones and make a person and their loved ones proud of their accomplishments, not something to looked down upon and ridiculed.  So, I am having a hard time doing this thing called…letting it go.  However, I am having much success at not being confrontational.  So….am I becoming a doormat because I am being hurt and still internalizing all of these feelings?  Or am I choosing the high road by not even bothering with stupid comments from people who clearly don’t matter?  Either way, thank goodness for this forum to voice my disgust and feel like I can even make one person aware that the words you speak may cut deeper than the surface.  So…as a full time working wife and mother I recently completed my Masters degree…not to mention all while training for a marathon and completing both in the same month.  Whoop…balloons and confetti didn’t happen.  Got my medal, got my piece of paper = happy girl.  Life goes on.  Anyway, I have finally found my place in a job that fits my education and experience and that I am very proud to be doing every day and hope to do for a very long time.  I decided to, not boast, but to use my office as a place to hang my hard work.  I am very aware that not everyone has the desire to go to college, has the money, or needs to for success.  I proudly graduated from the school of hard knocks for quite awhile, lived on my own, and enjoyed a 15 year prosperous career with a high school diploma.  So, I suppose it cuts deep when anyone looks at my framed piece of paper and makes degrading comments.  Well…..before you open your mouth let me tell you what that piece of paper means to me.  No, it does not mean I am smarter, know more than anyone else doing this job, or sit on a pedestal.  Those pieces of paper mean this, so take a seat!  In 1995 when I graduated high school my parents wanted me to be the first of 5 to go to college and I did.  Being an introvert who never partied I was afraid to leave home so I stayed local.  Sadly, I was torn between going to school and responding to messages.  If I didn’t respond to those messages the repercussions would be far greater than being missed in a sea of 25-30 students.  I managed to juggle an abusive relationship and college for one semester but then vanished.  Yes, simply vanished.  I didn’t fail or withdraw, I just disappeared.  Years ago there was no IDTV episode looking for me.  I was just another number, just another teenager that didn’t follow through.  There went my major in Economics, my dreams of doing big things, and my hopes of leaving a small town.  Who doesn’t want to do that at 17?  Somehow, some way just before the 10 year threshold (not that I knew there was one) I found the courage to take everything I learned from the School of Hard Knocks and apply that to the Criminal Justice program.  In the most difficult letter I had ever written to a person I had never met it took everything I had to admit to the Dean that rape and abuse kept me from school and to please consider reinstating my credits.  With a positive outcome from my local community college I now had the courage to make positive steps for myself.  But it wasn’t always a cake walk.  At one point, I was advocating for a survivor and assisting her in court.  While I was waiting at the clerk’s window I heard a familiar voice.  He was there, ironically, to pay for divorce papers.  The voice that used to make me tremble now just made me feel empowered to know that I was in the right place at the right time doing exactly what I was meant to do.  Life happened, marriage, child, jobs, money…but over the course of 12 years I was able to complete 3 degrees, share my story, appreciate each credit earned because I paid for every last one, and take an opportunity to work with survivors just like myself and most of all be the most positive role model to my teenage daughter!  Maybe the next time someone opens their mouth to speak unkindly on anything I have ever done I can shove my “piece of paper” and a sweaty sock from the shoes they have never run 26.2 miles in right in their piehole!