Reliving my biggest disappointment

Sarah told me that she is her class's representative at the upcoming spelling bee.  I was shocked, because despite eight years of frustrating teaching, this kid never learned to spell.  I couldn't imagine how she could have qualified for the bee.  Back in my day, you had to win your classroom bee in order to qualify for the all-school bee.  Then if you won the all-school bee, you advanced to the regional, then the national.  So I was asking her what some of her words were that she spelled correctly, and she told me there was no class bee; they just asked who was willing to represent the class, and she was the only one.  I'm very proud of her courage and willingness to stand up in front of lots of people and do something that doesn't come easily for her. Maybe some of my love of spelling somehow rubbed off on her; hopefully some of her bravery will rub off on me.

Thinking about spelling bees caused me to go into a full blown flashback of the most disappointing moment of the first 25 years of my life.  I can clearly see it, like a video playing back in my head.  I'm in 8th grade. Having won my class bee and school bee, it's my last chance to win the regional bee. It's being broadcast on TV, and my friends and family are watching.  I've been studying the word list for months, and I nailed my word ("conniving") in the practice round.  Round one should be easy.  It is.  I get an easy word: judgeship.  A stupid, simple word, but I don't know if it has an "e" or not.  Panic sets in on the inside, but I appear calm on the outside as I ask for a definition.  Then I ask for it to be used in a sentence.  All stalling techniques exhausted, I now have to spell it.  I can see myself standing there with my hideous 80s perm and ugly plaid wool skirt.  I say, "j-u-d-g..." and then I bite my lower lip, racking my brain, reasoning that "judgment" doesn't have an "e", so hopefully this one doesn't either.  "...s-h-i-p." The horrible ding of that bell that indicates failure, the obligatory applause of pity, and the walk of shame back to my seat. Then I had to sit there for hours and listen to the rest of the agonizing bee until someone finally won.  To add insult to injury, I knew how to spell every single word.  It seems like such a minor thing, but for some reason, I was despondent about it, and it remained for many years the worst day of my life.  In fact, the only thing that knocked it out for the top spot was the whole ordeal of infertility and the death of my baby daughter.