She Said I’d Never Make It—Now I’m Living the Life She Dreamed Of

Her exact words are still in my memory. "You will never succeed. All you are is a dreamer. Maya never said anything else to me before turning around and leaving. We were standing in front of my apartment building at the age of seventeen. Because I believed we had a future together, my heart was racing. She had already determined that I was not part of her plans, so hers was serene. Maya was gorgeous, intelligent, and terribly realistic. Her entire life was planned out, including where she would study, when she would graduate, what kind of career she would acquire, and even when she would fall in love. She ordered me to be chaotic. The boy with the cluttered notebooks full of ideas, part-time jobs, and unattainable goals. I was noise to her. A diversion. I remained intact after she went. I simply stopped talking. However, that quiet became resolve

I began to work harder than I had in the past. I was a burger flipper by day. At night, I watched hours of marketing-related YouTube tutorials, took free online classes, and learned how to create websites. I gradually began offering a little design service that included branding, business cards, and logos. I was learning, but I was barely making enough to pay for Wi-Fi. Each "no" brought me one step closer to a "yes." Maya never got back to me. I would occasionally check her Instagram, though. She was doing everything "right," including latte art, trips, internships, and prestigious college. She appeared content, stable, and successful. In the meantime, I was having trouble. I lived off of cheap food, slept for five hours every night, and worked on a borrowed laptop. However, I had faith in me, something she never did. Then I finally got the break I had been waiting for. My portfolio was discovered online by a Singaporean fashion startup. I became their primary brand consultant. I made more money on that one project than I had over the previous six months. More customers came after. I set up a business. A friend was hired. Then anothe started my own agency..

The following two years were a haze of effort and development. The outcomes were indisputable, but I seldom took a break. I was twenty-one years old and living in a modest but contemporary two-bedroom apartment overlooking the downtown skyline. With six employees and clients from four different countries, my creative agency recently reached 100,000 Instagram followers. Although I was not wealthy, I was at last free. Independent. constructing a tangible object. Then I got a message from Maya last week. I was drinking coffee on my terrace when her name appeared on my screen. All it said was, "Hey… long time." I opened the conversation after ten minutes of staring at it. She informed me that she had been keeping up with my work for some time. She expressed admiration for my progress. that although her corporate position seemed fantastic on paper, it felt like a golden prison. Then she made a statement that completely stopped me cold:

"You are leading the kind of life I used to envision." Although it was not intended to hurt, that line did. Not because I still had feelings for her. The ship had set sail. However, that statement validated my long-held suspicion that she did not believe I was worth the wait, not that I could not succeed. I took a while to respond. I reflected on the evenings when I stayed up questioning myself. I never let the tears flow. There were moments when I thought I was squandering my life on a fantasy. And how, deep down, I felt the need to prove something, so I persisted. Not to her. To me. When I did respond, it was brief. "Maya, thank you. I hope you go after your dream once more. There is yet time. The message pleased her. never answered. I watched the city lights flicker across the skyline that night while I stood on my balcony. I considered everyone who questioned me. A few were unfamiliar. A few of them were companions. Once, one of them was crucial. However, I have discovered that uncertainty is a fuel. You may either rise with it or let it burn you. I decided to get up.