From Math Phobia to Life Skills: The Unlikely Bridge

 From Math Phobia to Life Skills: The Unlikely Bridge

For some, mathematics is a beautiful symphony of logic. For others—like me—it’s the soundtrack to a mild anxiety attack. I belonged firmly to the latter camp. For years, sitting through a math class felt like being stranded in a foreign country without a translator. The numbers swirled, the formulas blurred, and my confidence crumbled.

But the real turning point—or rather, the breaking point—came in the 10th grade. Not only did the subject feel difficult, but it also started to feel utterly pointless. “When will I ever use this in real life?” I’d wonder, staring blankly at quadratic equations. My academic fate dangled precariously on that single subject; passing math was the gatekeeper to 11th grade. I scraped through by the skin of my teeth and promptly fled to the commerce stream, where mathematics was mercifully optional. I chose computer science instead, and for a blissful while, I thought I had escaped forever.

My relief continued through the 11th and 12th, and even into my first year of B.Com, when math was nowhere in sight. But just when I thought I was safe, the second year hit me with a double whammy: mathematics returned, and this time it brought its "sister"—statistics. To my surprise, I actually liked statistics. She was elegant, intuitive, and made sense. But her brother? He was back with a vengeance—more weightage, more complexity, and more sleepless nights. Still, my growing fondness for statistics carried me through that year.

Then came MBA. Now both "brother" and "sister" were reborn as "Business Maths" and "Business Statistics"—equal partners in academic crime. I often found myself wondering, Why do we need business maths when calculators exist? The subject felt as dry as a dusty chalkboard, and my interest was fading faster than a forgotten formula. Yet, mercifully, my affinity for statistics helped me cross the finish line with decent marks.

But let me be clear: I’m not sharing this story just to vent about old academic wounds. There’s a deeper realization buried in all that struggle.

You see, the more I began to write, the more I discovered my own voice—especially through analogies. Analogies became my anchor; they helped me organize chaos and make sense of abstract ideas. And that’s when the spark hit me: there’s a profound analogy between solving math problems and solving life problems.

I recall my MBA professor, who constantly drilled into us the importance of memorizing formulas and following sequential steps. At the time, I dismissed it as rote learning. But looking back, I realize my real weaknesses were a poor memory for formulas and an impatient streak that made me skip steps. Those weren’t just math problems—they were approach problems.

If we look closely, every challenge in life has a hidden formula. Once we crack it, the solution begins to unfold. For example, if procrastination is your enemy, here’s your formula:
To-Do List – Laziness = Plan of Action.

And just like math problems have steps, life problems do too. Take lack of savings, for instance:

Step 1: Write down your total income.
Step 2: Write down your total expenditure.
Step 3: Split the expenditure into useful and wasteful.
Step 4: Set a goal to reduce wasteful spending.
Step 5: The moment you receive your income, transfer the amount you would have wasted directly into savings.
Step 6: Repeat until your savings make you proud.

Math may not have been everyone’s favourite subject, but the ability to break down complex problems into manageable steps? That’s a lifelong superpower.

Not every subject we study will have a direct, tangible use in our daily lives—but the competencies we develop while learning them are priceless. I still remember craft class, where cutting and painting taught me patience. Likewise, math taught me structure, discipline, and logical sequencing—even if I didn’t appreciate it at the time.

So, if you’re a teacher or a parent reading this and you see a child struggling with a subject, don’t just push them to memorise. Show them the hidden treasure: What life skill does this subject build? What will they gain beyond the grade?

Because sometimes, the subjects we fight the hardest are the ones that quietly teach us the most.

M.L. Narendra Kumar