Error 404: Confidence Not Found — Until I Tried:)

How does it feel to sit in a room full of strangers, yet with people you've shared years with every day, week after week? I feel suffocated. As the isolated, introverted kid, it was hard to even start a conversation; asking for help felt like breaking a mountain into pieces.

If you know my first story, you understand how hard it was for me to study during my matriculation. It was the trauma that held me back from many things, such as being picked for general science instead of the computer science I desired, all because of what my cousin Alex said to me.

It might seem funny, but the first day I sat in the computer lab after starting the 10th standard was pretty tough. The suffocating feeling of not even knowing how to start the computer or open Word to work on what the teacher was trying to convey, while her focus roamed around the class on the children who excitedly asked her questions...

My throat felt clogged; tears threatened to spill, but before they could fall, the teacher helped me. She was the one I looked to as my savior. I began to idolize her teaching style. She was strict, but my focus was on studying hard and impressing her, wanting to stay in her good graces.

As the classes progressed smoothly, we reached the point of learning coding. I remember we received summer vacation homework to create a file with 20+ codes and understand them. My two-month break was filled with computer paper, colorful sheets, and drawings as I decorated my coding file just the way teacher suggested. I felt happiest with my creative work, yet I cried at night.

You might wonder, WHY? It was because the taunts echoed in my ears every night when I couldn’t remember the coding as I was supposed to. I broke down trying to learn all that coding. It was quite hard for me. Why?

Because I was scared to disappoint my teacher and not pass my exam with flying colors, terrified that I had filled a whole register learning just those 20 codes. At that time, I didn’t have a computer or laptop, making it impossible to practice as our teacher instructed. This made me feel restless. I would ask my tuition teacher how I could master them, and she provided some tips.

When school started, I presented my coding journal to the whole class. My heart raced, and the hair on my neck stood straight. The entire class focused on me, and I was so distracted that my teacher called my name when I zoned out. Her next words made my heart swell with happiness: “This is one of the best creative journals with neat work in this batch. I see you worked hard, Muniba.”

Just tell me who wouldn’t be happy? Maybe it was just another girl being appreciated among the students, but for me, it was worth every tear and restless night I endured.

As time passed, I became a popular student in my computer class due to my work. Even when I didn’t have computer class, I carried my coding journal to school for those who approached me for help. It always made my day to avoid loneliness, even for a few minutes. If I could go back, I’d like to stay the same way just to have those little chats again.

Just before the finals, we had grand test, as I sat in the third row, waiting for the teacher to distribute the grand test paper, where I had to write the coding as per the assigned number, I prayed the entire time to receive code four, which was the easiest. But my life can never be that simple, right?

I got code eight, the longest in the entire journal of 20+ codes, and the saddest part was I was the only one in the class who received that code. I tried to remember it, but halfway through my coding, I teared up because the test was worth 15 marks, which was too much for me to lose. I panicked and, for the first time, cried hard. The sound of my sobs broke the pin-drop silence of the class, and I caught whispers and laughter directed at me.

At that moment, I will never forget, my head was down, my paper stained with tears. The teacher approached my table and asked what happened. It was embarrassing for me. I replied, with clear hiccups escaping my mouth despite my efforts to contain them, “I studied well, but I forgot this. I don’t know what comes after this. I-”

I couldn’t finish my sentence when my teacher looked at my paper and nodded. Her response wasn’t gentle, but her words relaxed me: “You wrote much more than I expected from the students, since this one is really hard. I’ll give you a chance; write down whatever other code you have studied, and I’ll give marks according to both.”

I wanted fairness; I couldn’t just write one of my favorite codes and ace the test. I asked my teacher for another code number, and she gave me number twelve. It wasn’t easy either, but I unmistakably got it right.

That moment taught me something I carry to this day: If I can’t ace everything, I can still try and that’s enough.

That’s strength.

Even now, I’m not a tech wizard.

Even today, when someone asks me to use Excel, Word, or Google Meet tools, I get confused.

But I still try.

I still learn.

I still believe.

Because falling doesn’t make you weak.

Giving up does.

Sometimes, our biggest victories are hidden inside our hardest days. Have you ever faced a moment where you almost gave up, but chose to try again anyway? I'd love to hear your story. Maybe in sharing, we can remind each other that strength isn’t in always winning, but in never losing hope.