The trial that hurt, but became a blessing.

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. In the name of Allah, The Most Gracious and The Most Merciful.

Assalamualaikum my dear readers. Alhamdulillah after a while, I'm finally ready to write a blogpost about something that rather had hurt deeply inside, but I'm learning to heal every single day, in shaa Allah. It sounds a little over-dramatic, yes? But it's true. And I'm a little bit scared right now that my wound will reopen again while writing this, but I'm actually stronger than you think ;)

As we all know, it had been a month since I had received my spm results. On that historical day, I did not feel anything. I was emotionless, but my head was filled with thoughts and doubts and speculations and how I would handle everything and you have no idea how many times I had tried to talk some sense into myself like "Be positive, and tawakkal to Allah." "Whatever you get, be grateful. It's for your best." "Just chill, it'll be alright!"while brushing my teeth and staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was wondering when the nervous feels would kick in because it hadn't floated at the pit of my stomach yet. It did, however, appeared, when I watched the analysis of the results on tv and woosh! A wave of something came crashing down on me, making me realizing the realness of the situation I was about to face. My hands started to get really cold, and dude, I was sweating like crazy! It was amazing how your brain finally understood, and it didn't even give you a warning but sent a crazy mission alert to your whole system to start freaking out. Yes, that was it. I started to freak out.

In the car ride, I calmed down a bit. My dad drove me to school and wished me the best of luck before he went back home. A part of me was grateful my dad didn't come with me, and a part of me wished both of my parents were there to witness my glorious moment. Because believe me, I was really confident I could get the results that I wanted. It felt like I was destined for this, like I could really get straight As. It didn't seem impossible anymore. Because I was THAT confident. My hopes were as high as the mountains.

At the hall, after I met my friends and talked to some of my teachers, the principal came; holding the slips. We were all just dying out of anticipation. I noticed that the teachers who were arranging the slips didn't look all that happy, and all the teachers were focused at my class's table, 5 Adil. At that instant, I started to have a bad feeling. It didn't look like a good sign whatsoever, and suddenly Cikgu Agil came to where I sat and looked at me with an expression that crushed all my hopes. "Hazirah...sayangnya..." he simply said, and shook his head. And right then I knew, I didn't get it. But I was still hoping. There was still a chance. You don't know yet. Maybe Cikgu misread my slip. Maybe he read someone else's. Maybe he was joking with me. And I was praying so hard to Allah that whatever results I might get, please let me be strong. 

The principal came up to the stage and told us the analysis. Overall the percentage increased, but.....only two person got straight As. My heart sank. It was like a one in a million chance. But trust me, I was still hoping. Please let it be me, please let it be me, please let it be me. 

One by one, the teacher announced the results. From 6As. And one by one, my friends came up the stage with a happy smiles on their faces. And when it came to 7As, I suddenly heard, "Hazirah....."

I can't explain what exactly were my feelings at that moment, but all I knew was I didn't make it. I didn't achieve it. And that was all it took to break me. I stood up from my chair slowly, tears stinging at the edges of my eyes. People congratulated me at the bottom of the stage, thinking I was happy, but I was actually feeling the opposite. My fingers shook when I received the slip, and I saw the 2 B+ through a blurry vision. My knees threatened to give out underneath my weight when I descended the stage. When I arrived back at my chair, I couldn't hold it any longer. I was crying like crazy. When Pn.Tan came and held me and told me "Hazirah, it's okay..", I cried harder and harder. The tears came surging like waves, like waterfalls, rocking my body, filling my chest with suffocation.

Why did I cry sampai macam tu sekali, you ask? There was only one simple reason: the pain of failure hurt more than anything else in this world. It was a pain that sucked the air out of my lungs, and sending a deep ache to my heart. I had failed to achieve straight As. I had failed. That was all that went through my mind, and I couldn't stop sobbing for a while. When I called my dad, and told him what I got, he didn't seem to believe it. He was like, "Huh? Dapat berapa?" And when I told my mum, she was quiet for a while on the line. And finally she said something like, "Takpelah, kakak. You did your best." But I couldn't bear to hear what she was saying and I took an excuse to hang up quickly.

The teachers comforted me, my friends congratulated me, my mum's friends were even happy for me, but I couldn't even be happy for myself. I faked a smile, but I knew I didn't deserve their wishes. But I knew I had to be grateful to Allah, because surely, surely, this was the best for me.

For a few days, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about it, and ended up crying with the slightest thought of it. I was even more ashamed when my best friends during my primary school, all of them got straight As. And one of them even got 11A+ and earned herself a spot in the newspaper. I felt so ashamed of myself that I couldn't achieve straight As. I was ashamed that I failed. It was like I didn't belong to their group anymore. I was an outcast.

When my grandpa called, he asked excitedly what I got, and when I mentioned my results, his tone changed and he sounded turned down. Like the proud-ness that he had for me was gone. And that hurt the most. Even though some of my family members were ecstatic for my results, I knew, deep down, I had disappointed them.

After a while, I finally understood why it hurt me so deeply. Because of two reasons:
1) I had depended solely on SPM to shine. To prove myself. To make myself worthy. To feel like I could actually achieve something in life. SPM was something I hold dearly, because I felt like it was the only opportunity at that time to feel good enough.
2) High hopes from everyone. From my parents, family, teachers, and the school. I was one of the top-scorers. Their expectations were higher than ever; which had caused me to have a really ridiculous high hope on myself too.

So when I had failed, it was like falling from a cloud to land on the cold hard ground.

I knew I couldn't cope with the disappointment, so I prayed to Him. I asked from Him to guide me, to strengthen my iman for me to accept the road and path that He had chosen for me, and for Him to soften my heart so that I will accept this trial with an open mind, and with an open heart.

Indeed, Allah heard my prayers. He showed me the goodness of His decision. And I finally understood. Now I realized that this is really the best for me. Maybe if I had gotten straight As, I would never feel the pain of failure. Maybe I would never understand that. Maybe if Allah gave me straight As, I would feel sombong, I would feel like I was the best, and looked down on others who didn't get quite as much. Maybe if Allah gave me straight As, I would forget to be grateful to Him, and I would be boastful, and think that I was the smartest. Because I tend to be like that. All this time, I had never actually tasted the bitterness of failure. I was proud. I was conceited.

But Allah knew better. Allah showed His love by wanting me to return to Him. And so, He didn't give me what I wanted. But He gave me what I needed. To be closer to Him. To depend more on Him. To be more humble. To taste the bitterness of failure so that I will know how it feels to be at the bottom, so I will strive harder to achieve success in the future.

SubhanAllah. Maha Suci Allah, The Most Loving, The Most Kind.

Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah.

Where I am now is where Allah wants me to be. And even though the road is a little tougher for 7As student, a little crooked somehow, and more obstacles to overcome to get scholarships and stuff, but what is life without trials? You always have Him, and He is all you need. :) I believe that I will find my place, I will find a spot in a university with a course that will suit me the best, because I believe in this path that He had chosen for me. In shaa Allah, I will find my way. And in shaa Allah, you will too.

For my adik-adik, juniors yang akan sit for SPM this year; work hard alright? kalau boleh, tinggalkan gadjet-gadjet for a while, and leave all the distractions that might affect your future. Make every second count, straighten your niat, ikhlaskan hati, keep going, and don't give up.

Because when you have to choose between giving up or getting up, choose the latter. You won't regret it.

May Allah guide us.

:)