Disclaimer: This is a harangued-biography
I just heard your post from one of my enraged friends.
No, you don’t tell me to be proud because you don’t know a thing about me.
But, you will (a little bit) once you know my story…
There was once a little girl who was well-awaited by her parents. In fact, she was patiently waited for 7 years. When she was born, she was lavished with everything that her parents could lavish her with.
But, Life was not meant to be perfect for everybody so, too, with hers. Suddenly, she wasn’t enough anymore and her parents drifted apart.
A fresco of months later, her father left her and soon after, she lost her mother to death.
In no time, she was transported to a foreign place. She met her father again but it was only an empty shell that she met. In a blink of an eye, from a princess she turned into an orphaned pauper.
So, don’t tell me to be proud because at age 6 ½ , I overcame a major-shift in life that drives 40% of adults worldwide to suicide.
This little girl adapted to the foreign land, learned the language, customs, and everything else. Yet, she still felt out of place. She was bullied, cheated, hurt, and taken for granted by almost everyone around her. The only solace she had was school. Thus, she excelled.
So, don’t tell me to be proud because I bloomed despite the lack of support that was supposed to fuel a child to achieve higher planes.
Due to poverty and lack of support, her efforts were pretty much focused on her education. This was her only life-line and unfortunately, the cause of jealousy for the people around her. They would try to put her down, play pranks on her, humiliate her publicly, befriend her for ulterior motives. Despite all these, she miraculously gained real friends that she would later on cherish for the years to come.
So, don’t tell me to be proud because I survived the emotional trauma of being bullied in school whilst gaining genuine companionship.
She earned a scholarship and had to hurdle extra miles just to maintain near-to-impossible grade requirements. Unlike the usual high school cliques, the friends she gained were still there and this helped her to continue despite arduous academic demands.
One day, someone else showed up and together, they created colors that were far more vibrant that what they used to see. This amplified her sheer determination and she graduated fulfilled and with LATIN-flying honors.
So, don’t tell me to be proud because I juggled my education and personal relationships with finesse.
Barely 2 weeks after her graduation, she nabbed a job. On that point after, she no longer asked money from her benefactors. With her small monthly funds, she had been able to send herself to review school, pay her board exams bills, travel out of town, give a little money to her benefactors, buy her own personal merchandise while enjoying a simple date with Mr. Colorful.
So, don’t tell me to be proud because by age 21, I was capable get myself employed and to provide for myself despite the minimal employment rate.
The wait for the results were twice as nerve-wrecking as taking the board exam. But, the elation she felt when she saw her name of the roster was exceptional. After that, she felt ready to fully explore the profession she was intended to fulfill: being a teacher. She anticipated a lot of hardships on her 1st year of work but she had no idea how bad it was. She secretly developed a love-hate relationship with her students and helped console her fellow teachers in the faculty room. Her superiors found her highly dependable and thus, she was assigned odd jobs a high-positioned teacher should do. The school year ended and now as she gaze upon her previous students and listen to their current teachers’ praise of them, she knew she did well for her 1st year.
So, don’t tell me to be proud because I already am.