Turning my insecurity in my strenght

A traumatic experience doesn’t leave your life until you overcome it…

I was never a bright student, always a silly, lonely little girl who wanted to do nothing with anyone because she was scared of being judged by people. I was never the kind of child teachers praised. I wasn’t an academic achiever, nor was I good at sports or school performances. I was an introvert who would just sit alone, looking at people from afar, seeing them happy, excited, but I don’t remember ever studying hard. I never received certificates, and never got appreciation from my teachers. I was the student who was always alone, who was known as “the silent girl” in my class.

But back then, seven years ago in Pakistan, being silent meant being “good.” People used to say, “She’s such a quiet, innocent girl.” That tag stayed with me, it was a praise to me, yeah. But I wasn’t a good student; I barely passed my exams, which gave me another tag, “stupid, unworthy girl, she’s just wasting her parents' money.”

Let me take you to the moment everything changed for me.

I was in 8th grade, studying with a tutor who taught me along with two boys, one of whom was my cousin, Alex, and the other, his friend, Mike. Our tutor was left-handed and I always sat to her right, listening quietly while the boys sat on her left.

One day, we were all chatting after our final exams. The boys were confidently discussing how they’d choose Computer Science in high school because they were top students. They were proud, and my tutor seemed proud too. I wanted to join the conversation, to be noticed, to be included. So, I said, “I’ll choose Computer Science too.”

And then my cousin said something that pierced right through me, “You won’t even get into commerce, let alone Computer Science. You’ll barely pass, Muniba.” He laughed. The others went quiet. I sat there, stunned, trying to understand what he meant. I was just too engrossed to be noticed by them, so I didn’t think much about his words.

Until I reached home and it hit me hard, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That 16-year-old version of me started questioning everything. Am I that bad? Can I never be good enough? Don’t I deserve some appreciation? I try to study, but my brain doesn’t work. Is it my fault? I broke down. His words left me undoubtedly hating myself.

I went to my sister, crying my heart out, telling her what Alex said. She listened but didn’t say much until the worst part happened. Everyone in the family found out what Alex had said. They laughed. They ignored, and said he wasn’t wrong, just being honest.

“You barely pass anyway,” they said. I felt humiliated. I cried in front of my family as I desperately said, “I could still learn something. I could skill myself. I could do something worthwhile,” while Alex walked around like nothing happened. He didn’t realize his words were crushing me.

As fate would have it, I couldn’t get into Computer Science. I scored 64% and was put in General Science instead. My mother and sister tried convincing the school to give me a chance, but they refused. “She’s too weak academically,” they said in front of me, judging me, leaving me to think I’m the real problem.

I tried harming myself, but nothing happened. After getting into the 9^th class, I stayed with the same tutor again, still with Alex and Mike. Since I was the only General Science student, I felt invisible. The tutor, though kind, gave more attention to the boys since they were studying computer science. I started studying alone, forcing myself to focus. I was determined to prove everyone wrong, including myself.

I pushed myself to the edge. I studied late nights, skipping sleep, food, and even all the celebrations. I poured everything into those books. My only goal was to prove I could do it too, to get appreciated.

When the results came in, I had scored 78.6% an A. Everyone around me celebrated, but I cried. I wanted 88%, an A+, but still I wasn’t satisfied. I cried in front of the whole school, while my principal happily congratulated every student.

I wanted more and I was scared to be judged again, the only thought that was going through my head was, I’ll be humiliated again, they will laugh, they will know that I can never do better, my overthinking was eating me alive, as I reached home the first person who came in front of me was my sister, and she was proud, my tutor was proud, but I was still in that deep hole, with the only thought of I wanted to do better.

Then came the biggest shift, as the boys walked into the class, they sat in front of the tutor and told their grades… my cousin Alex scored 74%.

Cut to part in my 10^th grade, I kept focusing on my studies, still the same, ignoring food, sleep, celebration, just studies. It was a winter night in January, when downstairs my family was celebrating and I stayed upstairs, studying, when suddenly he came to me, stood in front of me, and said, “I’m sorry, Muniba, for saying you’d barely pass. I- I was just joking.” And just like that, he walked away, as I couldn’t respond but nod.

Those words stayed with me. They hurt more than I could explain. How could I forgive him? I wanted to forgive and forget the worst memory, but I couldn’t, it cut me way too deep, I was ashamed that I couldn’t forgive him, it hurt me that I was being selfish and holding on to that deep cut statement, even after his apologies, but am I at fault?

That insecurity became my strength.

In 10th grade, I scored 83.4% an A+. My whole family was overjoyed. They celebrated with cake, gifts, and love. And for the first time, I felt proud. Not because of the marks (because I was still disappointed in myself) but because I knew I’d earned them. Those smoke and appreciation still makes my heart warm.

Even now, in my final year of university, the fear of failure haunts me. I still cry after exams. I still overthink. But I study. I push myself. I remind myself that I’m not that scared, silent girl anymore. Even now when someone just jokingly says that I won’t pass this course, I panic. Those jokes are not funny to me, as I get home crying, overthinking why they would say this to me now. Am I not studying properly?

I still am fighting with myself about forgetting and moving forward, but something holds me back. What is it? Maybe failing and getting humiliated again…

This is my story, how I turned the fear of failure into the drive to succeed in my high school. Now tell me, what’s your story? What was your biggest insecurity that you turned into your strength?