Am I a Loser?

     The old voice has been shouting in my head again  - “You’re a loser.”
     It’s been screaming that all my life. When I was in grade school, it declared I was a loser because I couldn’t jump rope. As an adolescent, the score card changed, and I was a loser because my face was an acre of zits. In high school, the report card shifted again: the winners were the cheerleaders, those who had cars and boyfriends. I wouldn’t dare try out for cheerleading, my father drove me to school, and...