Believe it or not, lots of people change their majors and abandon

When Danica McKellar spoke the words, “Believe it or not, lots of people change their majors and abandon their dreams just to avoid a couple of math classes in college,” she was not simply lamenting a flaw in education—she was sounding a trumpet of warning to all who would shrink from challenge. Her words reveal a quiet tragedy of our age: that countless souls surrender their destiny at the gate of difficulty, trading greatness for comfort. Math, in her quote, is not merely a subject—it is a symbol of every obstacle that stands between a dreamer and their dream.

In the ancient world, the great teachers understood that struggle is the crucible in which wisdom is born. To face what is difficult is to refine the mind, to awaken powers that lie sleeping in the spirit. But when one turns away from the mountain, fearing the climb, one also turns away from the summit’s view. So it is with those who, to avoid discomfort, abandon their chosen path. They trade the eternal satisfaction of mastery for the fleeting relief of escape. McKellar’s words remind us that fear disguised as practicality is the silent thief of human potential.

Consider the story of Hypatia of Alexandria, the brilliant philosopher and mathematician of the 4th century. In an age when women were seldom allowed to study, she pursued the mysteries of the cosmos through mathematics and reason. Her courage to face the unknown made her one of the most respected minds of her time. Though her life ended in tragedy, her legacy endured as a testament to the truth that knowledge—no matter how challenging—is a sacred pursuit. Had she turned away from numbers, from the elegant but difficult patterns of logic, the world would have been robbed of her light. She reminds us that to confront the hard thing is to create history.

Mathematics, in McKellar’s reflection, becomes a mirror of the greater struggle within the soul—the struggle between growth and avoidance, between faith and fear. The student who abandons their dream because of a few daunting classes is not defeated by equations or symbols; they are defeated by the voice within that whispers, “You are not capable.” Yet this voice is an illusion, a phantom born of insecurity. Those who dare to persist soon discover that every formula cracked, every concept understood, is not merely a victory of the mind, but a triumph of the spirit.

And so, the lesson echoes through time: that courage is the secret to understanding. Every challenge we evade becomes a chain around our potential, while every difficulty faced becomes a doorway to freedom. The ancients knew this well. The Spartans sent their children into hardship not to harden their bodies alone, but to awaken the unyielding will that would carry them through life’s battles. Likewise, when you face your own “math class”—the task that frightens or frustrates you—remember that beyond it lies the land of mastery and peace.

Let us then speak to the dreamers of today: do not abandon your dream for the sake of comfort. The path to your calling will always be lined with trials meant to test your resolve. What seems impossible today will, through patience and persistence, one day seem simple. For in every difficult task lies a secret—it does not exist to stop you, but to shape you. The more you wrestle with the hard thing, the more you uncover the strength that has always been yours.

In your own life, practice this wisdom. When you encounter something that intimidates you—whether it be a subject, a skill, or a fear—do not retreat. Instead, stay, breathe, and learn. Seek help from the wise, break the task into pieces, and honor the process. For each small victory is a spark that keeps the fire of your dream alive. One day you will look back and see that what once frightened you became the very thing that made you strong.

Thus, McKellar’s words should be engraved in the hearts of all who listen: never let fear of difficulty dictate your destiny. The mountain is not your enemy—it is your teacher. And when you conquer it, you do not just pass a class or earn a degree; you ascend into the truth of who you are—a being capable of infinite understanding, limitless growth, and unbreakable will.