"Everyone Gave Up on Me—Until One Moment Changed Everything"

was 22 when life completely fell apart.

A few months earlier, I had dreams. Not just casual ones—big, ambitious, sky-touching dreams. I wanted to become a graphic designer, open my own studio, support my family, and prove that I could be more than just "that quiet guy from a poor neighborhood." But life, as always, had its own script.

I failed my diploma exams twice. My father, a daily wage laborer, couldn’t understand why I was spending so many hours in front of a screen with “no income.” My friends started to fade away. One by one, their replies became shorter, their excuses more frequent. And eventually, silence.

My mother, always soft-spoken, tried to comfort me with quiet meals and quiet prayers. But I could feel it—everyone thought I had failed. Maybe I had.

Days turned into weeks. I stopped going outside. I would wake up late, eat less, and stare at my old, overheating laptop without opening any software. The passion I once had for design was buried beneath layers of self-doubt and hopelessness.

One night, I overheard my father saying to my mother, “Shayad kuch nahi banega isse. Isko chhor dena chahiye sab.”

That broke something in me. Not because I was angry—no. It was because he wasn’t wrong.

The next morning, I didn’t get out of bed. I didn’t open my laptop. I didn’t even touch my phone.

It was around 11 a.m. when I got a message.

From a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hey, are you the guy who used to post logos and edits on Facebook? I have a small project. Interested?”

I stared at it for minutes. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to delete it and go back to sleep. But something inside me whispered, “Just one more try.”

I replied with a simple, “Yes.”

He was a small YouTuber from Islamabad who needed a logo, intro animation, and banner. Nothing fancy. Just clean work. He offered PKR 2,000. Not much. But for someone who hadn’t earned a rupee in six months, it felt like a lifeline.

I forced myself to sit at the desk. My old laptop wheezed like it was coming back to life. I opened Photoshop, then After Effects. My hands shook. My heart raced. But the moment I started dragging layers, choosing colors, adjusting fonts—it all started to come back.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I worked for 10 hours straight, fixing every pixel, tweaking every transition. I sent him the files by morning.

His reply:

“Bro this is awesome! Way better than I expected. I’m recommending you to three of my friends.”

That moment—that single message—was the spark that re-lit the fire.

Over the next month, I completed 12 projects. Some were small, some barely paid anything, but they kept coming. My confidence grew with every feedback. I created a Fiverr account, started posting daily on social media, and updated my portfolio. Slowly, people started noticing.

One of the friends that YouTuber referred me to was a digital marketing agency in Lahore. They offered me a part-time contract at PKR 30,000/month. From zero to that—it felt unreal.

My father started noticing too. He would peek into my room and say things like, “Kaam zyada hai kya?” or “Kya banaya aaj?” Small things, but to me, they were huge.

Six months later, I was earning more than I ever imagined. I helped pay for my sister’s school fees, bought a better laptop, and even enrolled in an online course to level up my skills.

But more than money, what I earned back was belief—in myself.

Today, whenever someone says, “Mujhse nahi hoga,” I tell them my story. Not to brag, but to remind them: rock bottom isn’t the end. Sometimes, it's the foundation of a stronger version of you.

Everyone gave up on me.

Even I gave up on me.

But one message, one project, one moment—it changed everything.