"What is the sum of all the numbers from 1-10?" Here we go again. Another family trip to the H-Mart in Fort Lee, New Jersey. From being able to spend loose change on the capsule toy machines to sampling the new flavors of mochi ice cream that were given out, I loved these trips for the most part. But there was one thing that left a sour taste in my mouth. No; it was not the ice cream but something of a less appetizing quality: Math.

During the forty minute drive to and from the store, my dad would somehow manage to think of math problems for me to do despite driving through hectic New York City traffic. When prompted to give the time two captains would meet if I was told how far apart they were and the speeds at which they drove their respective boats, I said: "Why not just ask the captains?" Needless to say, this answer wasn't exactly the one my dad was looking for. What could have been a pleasant Sunday family trip turned into a numerical nightmare?

I'll admit that part of my mathematical fears stemmed from my own actions. When I was in third grade, my parents enrolled me in Kumon--an after-school program that gave math worksheets to be done daily. Parents and educators called it 'academic enrichment'. Personally, I thought 'Hell' was a better descriptor. Kumon is structured in levels--ranging from addition and subtraction up to calculus. One can only progress to the next level when mastery of the preceding one was demonstrated through a test that took into account both time and accuracy.

At first, Kumon started off easy and was mostly about drilling the four functions: addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. I became proficient at performing quick calculations and gained confidence in math. However, as math became more complex, Kumon's explanations for the concepts became murkier and murkier. It got to the point where the only explanation for finding the volume of a solid was 'Compute'. I didn't think that one word was of much help. I still don't. With Kumon offering little to no help and my dad's explanations only making things worse, I resorted to cheating to advance through the levels. I came across a copy of the test answer key for all Kumon level tests and memorized it before taking each one. The Kumon center employees thought I was a genius for acing tests in record times but this notion could probably be refuted as I found myself facing precalculus problems in seventh grade with not the slightest clue as to what was going on.

My math fears were only perpetuated throughout middle and high school as most tests involved a significant number of word problems. Kumon only gave problems that were already set up and neglected to provide the word problems that required one to not just compute but understand the underlying concepts. I managed to do well in my math classes by memorizing the review packets given before each test but when AP Calculus rolled around and the review packets ceased, I was in for a rude awakening. To the person who graded my AP Calculus exam, I'm sorry that you had to waste a few minutes of your life looking at that monstrosity.

But when I entered college, I decided that I would stop running away from my fears. I decided to give math another shot. Instead of taking Intro to Statistics or Calculus 1, I delved into the heart and soul of math by taking 'The Origins of Math'. As someone who loves history, I learned how math developed throughout history and some of the problems faced by mathematicians from different time periods. For the first time, math came together for me. Sine, cosine, and tangent weren't just some functions that made up 'SOH-CAH-TOA'--they were derived from a circle and the words themselves came from Latin. While the class's proof-based approach didn't help my GPA, it did help me become the mathematician I am today.

Looking back on things, deciding to run headfirst towards math instead of away from it was one of the best decision I'd ever made. And for all you numberphobes out there, I'm not saying that you have to like math. But if you are willing to give it another shot, maybe--just maybe--it will click for you as it did for me.