What happens when our own dreams feel out of reach to us?

I still remember standing in the school hallway during recess. Kids were coming and going as usual. Some were joking around, some were running toward the cafeteria, and some were busy chatting with their friends. Amidst all that commotion, I was actually lost in my own thoughts. What if I’m not smart enough? What if I’ve tried my best, but still fail? At that moment, those questions felt much louder than the school bell. 

This journey didn’t start with a victory. Quite the opposite. There were competitions that did not go the way I hoped. There was a scholarship I’d been looking forward to, preparing for, and praying for, but in the end, it was awarded to someone else. It felt like knocking on the same door over and over again and hearing no answer from the other side. The most exhausting part wasn’t the failure itself. The most exhausting part was having to convince myself to try again. 

But that’s where I began to learn something that cannot be found in textbooks or exam papers. I learned that a person’s worth isn’t increased by a medal and isn’t diminished by a rejection. I learned that courage often looks very simple: come back, learn again, and try again.

While attending Santa Ursula BSD since kindergarten, I grew up embracing the Serviam values. These values weren’t always conveyed through formal lessons. Sometimes they came through teachers who continued to believe in me even when I doubted myself. Sometimes they came through friends who encouraged me after a disappointing result. Sometimes they came through the chance to start over.

When I received all those awards, I was certainly grateful. But what stands out most in my memory isn’t the day the results were announced. What stands out most are all the days leading up to it.

The days when I had to study even when I was tired. The days when I doubted my own abilities. The days when I failed, felt disappointed, and then slowly found a reason to get back up again.

Perhaps that is why, when I look back, I no longer think of the medals first. What I remember instead is a child who once stood in the school hallway, wondering if he was good enough. And as it turned out, he didn’t need an answer. He just needed to keep moving forward. Because in the end, light doesn’t always come from victory. Sometimes, growth does not come from winning. It comes from learning, persevering, and refusing to give up.