THEME: KNOCK YOURSELF OUT
TITLE: My Life’s Journey: A Journey of Resilience, Faith, and Self-Discovery
Written by Mihle Tyesi
In the realm of dreams and aspirations, where hopes soar and the heart yearns, my life’s journey stands as a testament to the delicate dance between ambition and acceptance. As the echoing footsteps of unattained goals resonate through the corridors of my past, I found solace in an unexpected refuge: a steadfast faith in the divine. Amidst the clash of desires unfulfilled and the sanctuary of newfound spirituality, my story unfolds a portrait of resilience in the face of life’s unpredictable canvas.
I was forever known as the girl with boundless ambition. From a very young age, I had fire within me, a drive to achieve my dreams that burned brighter than anything else. My determination was awe-inspiring. Throughout my academic journey, my goals remained unwavering: to achieve my dream career and make a mark on the world. My dedication extended beyond my studies. I was a kind-hearted individual and ever-willing to lend a hand to my community, especially my peers. I believed that the world would be a better place if everyone worked together, if everyone cared for one another. I poured my energy in helping my peers, often staying late to assist them with assignments and projects. But despite my generosity, I noticed that my peers rarely reciprocated the same level of kindness. I shrugged it off, convinced that my efforts would be rewarded eventually.
I found solace in the hushed haven of knowledge. While my peers navigated the chaotic seas of popularity and the relentless pursuit of fitting in, I discovered a sanctuary with the pages of textbooks and the quiet embrace of the classroom. Unlike my classmates…I was not popular and it did not help that my appearance did not fit with my peers standards, but the uniform I lacked in appearance was more compensated for by the uniqueness of my character and unwavering dedication I put in my studies. My undeniable mind was the beacon that drew the admiration of both my peers and teachers alike. As some of my peers grew to admire me, some saw me as an easy target for their judgement. They scoffed at me for my disheveled appearance and lack of trendy clothes. In their eyes, my quiet demeanour was mistaken for weakness, my lack of popularity a sign of insignificance. For me that was not the case. I was a simple girl who did not want attention and I knew if I met their standards, I would have to be in their crowds that were known for bad behaviours and bad attitudes. And once again I shrugged it off, convinced that my efforts would be rewarded eventually.
As I advanced to Grade 12, my world started to shift. The pressure of exams combined with my own sky-high expectations began to take a toll on my mental well-being. Nights turned into endless study sessions, and days were filled with constant anxiety. I pushed myself harder, believing that my dedication would lead to success. I hoped that all my hard work would pay off and that the doors to my dream career would swing wide open. As the final stretch of high school unfolded, casting its weighty shadow over the horizon, I found myself standing at the threshold of Grade 12. The pressure of impending exams hung over me like a storm cloud, casting doubts upon the fortress of confidence I has carefully built.
Amidst stacks of books and scattered notes, I prepared for battle, arming myself with the knowledge I’d cultivated over the years of dedication. But there was an unforeseen adversary lurking within the trembling of my own hands. As I sat in the exam hall, my heart pounded an anxious rhythm. With every tick of the clock, the familiar trembling would start, gradually turning her hands messengers of anxiety. My mind sharp and prepared, struggled to find its voice through the tremors that choked the ink from my pen. Time, the relentless master of such moments, slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. The questions stared back at me, a taunting reminder of what I knew but couldn’t translate onto paper. Each passing second deepened the pit in my stomach, a growing realisation that my time was running out.
Amidst my struggle, my class teacher, no doubt well-intentioned, approached, offering assistance that felt more like a magnifying glass on her inadequacies. As my trembling intensified under the spotlight of her attention, the pressure mounted to an almost unbearable degree. The once familiar rhythm of my heartbeat seemed to pound out a mocking retort: “You not good enough.” But amidst this chaos, a glimmer of truth emerged. I recognised that the strength that had carried me through challenges hadn’t abandoned me. It was strength born from authenticity, from the willingness to embrace my uniqueness, even when others undermine it. It was a strength found in the countless hours of solitary study, the quiet triumphs that needed no audience.
When the results were announced, they did not match. I had passed, yes, with a bachelor, yes, but my scores fell short for a sponsored chartered accounting degree in one of the promotable universities in South Africa. The disappointment was a sharp blow to my self-esteem. My mind became a battleground of self-doubt. I wondered if I had done enough, if my dreams were even with reach. My mental struggles didn’t end with high school. I entered varsity with the weight of unfulfilled expectations resting heavily on my shoulders. Stepping onto the expansive campus of university, it felt like a wanderer entering an unfamiliar territory. My chosen degree, a compromise of sorts, was a constant reminder of my failure to reach my dream career. Life’s path had taken another twist, and I found myself navigating the complex terrain of higher education, where the shadows of old struggles awaited me. The unfamiliar modules and coursework only amplified my anxiety. The solitude that had once been my refuge transformed into a daunting challenge. I often found myself questioning my abilities and doubting whether I was capable of succeeding at all. The social environment on campus wasn’t any more forgiving. My peers seemed to exist in their own world, focused on their aspirations and achievements. The camaraderie I had hoped for was elusive, and I felt increasingly isolated. I yearned for someone who could see beyond the façade of success I had projected for so long. The very same qualities that often set me apart, an unwavering dedication to learning, an unflinching commitment to authenticity seemed to cast me in a harsh light.
In the eyes of my varsity peers, I was intimidating. My dedication to my studies and apparent confidence made me seem like I had everything figured out. Little did they know, the sleepless nights, the self-doubt and the constant pressure were my constant companions. My peers driven by their insecurities viewed me with suspicion, interpreting my diligence as arrogance. My heart ached for someone who could see past the surface and acknowledge the battles I was fighting internally. In group assignments, the collaborative spirit turned into a battleground. Ideas were exchanged but mine were often dismissed or overshadowed by the clamour of louder voices.
The weight of my isolation grew heavier as I tried to navigate the dynamic, striving to contribute meaningfully despite the odds stacked against me. My academic journey took a toll. The relentless efforts I poured into studying for test yielded results that fell short of my expectations. The skewed dynamics of group projects had a ripple effect, a poison that seeped into my overall performance. My marks became a reflection not of my true potential, but of the challenges I faced within the constraints of my environment. Through my perseverance, I found allies, professors who recognised my passion and peers who value my input. Slowly, the walls of isolation began to crumble, revealing the potential for connections that transcended the confines of conformity. As I neared the end of varsity, I emerged not as a villain, but as a protagonist whose narrative defied expectations.
After deciding to take a break and not continue with honours, I found myself in a new chapter of life, a gap year that chose to fill in an unexpected way by turning to my faith. Though I had always known God, this time my journey with spirituality held a different significance. The pages of scripture seemed to speak to me in a profound way, resonating with struggles I had faced and the strength that had carried me through. Ecclesiastes 9:11-12 became a passage that held my attention, its words offering a deep layer of understanding to my journey. “The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come from the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favour to the learned: but time and chance happen to them all.” These words became a mirror reflecting my own experiences back at me. The passage spoke to my struggles in high school, my isolation, the challenges of university, and the doubts that had clouded my confidence. The words “time and chance” struck a chord within me. I realised that life’s twists and turns, the challenges and triumphs, weren’t solely a reflection of my worth but a part of a greater ebb and flow of existence. The scripture reminded me that life’s hurdles and rewards weren’t distributed solely by merit, but were the result of the interplay between time, chance, and the spirit within me.
As graduation day approached, a bittersweet wave of emotions washed over me. The years over navigating isolation, defying stereotypes and striving for authenticity had left their mark. Yet, the haunting whispers of self-doubt had become my companions, whispering that perhaps my journey had been in vain. A quiet anxiety cast a shadow over the anticipated day, a lingering fear that my efforts wouldn’t be acknowledged. But I mustered the strength to attend, to walk the final journey alongside the very peers who had made my path so arduous. As I stepped into the sea of caps and gowns, a mix of emotions flooded my senses. As I saw my peers for one last time, my memories came alive, vivid and unbidden.
The isolation I felt, the judgements I had endured, the moments of invisibility, all surfaced. Every whispered remark, every stifled laugh, every instance where I felt the weight of being different, each memory coalesced into a storm of doubt that threatened to engulf me. As I stepped onto the stage something unexpected happened. The weight of all those years, the whispers of doubt, and the judgement of my peers converged into a single moment of clarity. With my name announced, the world around me seemed to fall silent. The faces that had once sneered or ignored me now became a blur. All that mattered was my journey, determination, and the unyielding authenticity that had propelled me forward.
My journey to healing began as I embraced my imperfections and sought help for my mental struggles. Through my journey, I have uncovered the layers of anxiety that had been building for years. I learned that my relentless pursuit of success had taken a toll on my well-being, and I had to prioritize my mental health. My journey, marked by challenges and coloured by the hues of self-doubt, has been a testament to the yielding strength of my spirit. While the echoes of unattained dreams may linger, they no longer define me. Ecclesiastes 9:11-12, once a verse in the pages, has become a guiding force, helping me make sense of my journey and providing a new lens through which to view my experiences. The missed opportunities and trials I faced now serve as stepping stones towards a future infused with purpose and resilience. As a girl who once sought comfort in her studies, defied doubts and embraced spirituality as a guiding light I am now on a journey to reclaim my dreams, to shape my destiny with the wisdom I gathered along the way. I am now a testament to the potential of healing, redirection, and transformation. In my story, I hope you find hope. A reminder that even amidst the darkest moments, there’s a light that guides us forward, strength within us that can mend the wounds of the past and lead us towards a future defined by our own terms. THANK YOU
PUBLISH’D AFRIKA Magazine Facebook Short Story Competition is funded by the National Arts Council, Department of Sport, Arts and Culture and Presidential Employment Stimulus Programme 3
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