The morning light had barely slipped through the window slats when I woke up, stirred not by the usual noise of the street outside, but by a quiet sense of urgency.
Today might be the day Ma’am sends the final exam through our online portal.
I stretched out gently on my bed, letting the remnants of sleep fade from my body before slowly sitting up, folding the blanket that kept me warm during the night.
As I moved through the small space of my boarding house room, my thoughts wandered, floating into the silence.
This is it—the last week I’ll be here. A bittersweet feeling settled in my chest.
The school year is closing, summer is just around the corner, and today marks the final exam.
Snapping back into my morning routine, I walked toward our humble wooden table and glanced at the rice cooker.
I was hoping there’d be some cooked rice left from yesterday, but the smell said otherwise—spoiled.
With a sigh, I grabbed the container, stepped outside, and quickly washed it under the tap.
The morning breeze brushed against my skin, cool and familiar, like it had witnessed every early routine I had in this place.
I returned inside, took two cups of rice, and poured them into the container.
Then, I stepped back out again to rinse the grains, feeling the rhythm of my simple life—one I had grown used to, and in some way, had learned to love.
I switched the rice cooker on and, without wasting time, grabbed my soap and went outside again to wash my face.
A long minute passed before I stepped back inside, water still dripping lightly from my face.
I found myself pausing in front of the small mirror hung by the door.
My reflection greeted me with tired eyes and familiar blemishes.
I reached for my toner and gently patted it across my skin, followed by a dab of cream.
My eyes lingered on the stubborn pimples across my forehead and cheeks.
"When will you leave me alone?" I whispered, half-laughing, half-sighing.
There it was again—that quiet voice of insecurity.
It’s been with me for years, poking at me whenever I looked too long in the mirror or compared myself to someone else.
But you know what?
I’ve slowly begun to understand.
These flaws I see, these insecurities I feel—they’re not enemies.
They’re parts of me I’ve yet to fully love.
Yes, I do have insecurities.
We all do.
And maybe we’ll never truly be rid of them.
But I’m learning that accepting them is where the real beauty begins.
Maybe one day, I’ll look in this same mirror and smile—not because the blemishes are gone, but because I’ve learned to embrace them.
And I hope, truly hope, that one day all of us—me, you, everyone—will be able to face the world with a smile, without shame or self-doubt, because we’ve chosen to love ourselves beyond the surface.
But for now, I’ll take this day slowly.
My plan? Answer my last final exam—thankfully it’s just one subject—and then, finally, let myself rest.
I think I deserve that nap today. Maybe even a long, dream-filled sleep.
After all the struggles, the long nights, the homesickness, the worries and tears I never dared to show—this moment, this quiet, ordinary morning—it feels like a soft reward.
A gentle pause before the next chapter begins.
And for now, that’s more than enough.
YOU ARE READING
POV
No FicciónLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
