When Doubt Turned Into Determination

"You'll never make it as a writer."

My college advisor said it casually, almost kindly, like he was doing me a favor by crushing my dream early.

"The odds are terrible. You'd be better off choosing something practical. Something with job security."

I was 20 years old, sitting in his cluttered office, holding a folder of my short stories. Stories I'd poured my heart into. Stories I believed in.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I walked out of that office with tears streaming down my face, convinced he was right.

For exactly three days.

The Doubt That Almost Won

Those three days were dark.

I looked at my notebook filled with half-finished stories and saw garbage. I looked at my dreams and saw delusion. I looked at myself and saw someone too naive to understand how the world really worked.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was wasting my time. Maybe practical trumped passionate, and I was just too stubborn to see it.

I almost switched my major. Almost gave up on the one thing that made me feel truly alive.

But on day four, something shifted.

I was reading a biography of a writer I admired—someone whose work had changed my life. In it, she described all the people who'd told her she'd never make it. The teachers who dismissed her. The editors who rejected her. The family members who worried she was throwing her life away.

And I realized: every successful person has a story of someone who doubted them.

The Moment Doubt Became Fuel

That advisor's words stopped feeling like a verdict and started feeling like a challenge.

You'll never make it?

Watch me try.

I made a decision that day: I would use that doubt as fuel instead of poison. Every time I felt like quitting, I'd remember his words and let them push me forward instead of holding me back.

I started writing every single day. Not when I felt inspired. Not when I had time. Every. Single. Day.

I submitted stories to literary magazines. I got rejected. I submitted more. I got rejected again. And again. And again.

Each rejection stung. But instead of confirming the advisor's prediction, each one taught me something. How to tighten my prose. How to strengthen my characters. How to find my unique voice.

I wasn't failing. I was learning. And every lesson made me better.

The Breakthrough That Proved Him Wrong

Two years after that conversation, I sold my first story to a small online magazine.

The pay was minimal—$50. But the feeling was priceless.

I'd done it. I was a published writer.

Over the next five years, I published dozens more stories. I built a freelance writing career. I started earning real money from something everyone said was impossible.

At 27, I published my first book.

It wasn't a bestseller. It didn't make me rich or famous. But it existed. A physical book with my name on the cover, sitting on bookstore shelves.

The dream that advisor said would never happen? It happened.

The Lesson Doubt Taught Me

Here's what I learned: doubt is only powerful if you let it stop you.

That advisor wasn't evil. He genuinely believed he was being realistic, protecting me from disappointment. But he was also wrong.

Not because the odds weren't tough—they absolutely were. But because odds don't account for determination. They don't account for someone willing to work harder, learn faster, and refuse to quit.

Doubt tells you what's statistically likely. Determination creates outcomes that defy statistics.

Every person who's accomplished something meaningful has faced doubt. From others. From themselves. The ones who succeeded were simply the ones who kept going anyway.

Your Doubt Is Waiting to Be Transformed

If someone has told you that you can't do the thing you dream of—if doubt is whispering that you're not good enough, talented enough, lucky enough—I need you to hear this:

They might be wrong. And even if the odds are bad, you might be the exception.

But you'll never know unless you try. You'll never know unless you use that doubt as rocket fuel instead of an anchor.

Let the people who doubt you motivate you. Let the voice that says "you can't" become the voice that drives you to prove "I can."

Not out of spite, but out of self-belief.

Because here's the truth: the only way to guarantee failure is to stop trying.

The Writer I Became

I'm 32 now. I make my living as a writer—the thing I was told would never work.

Some days are hard. Some months are lean. But I wake up every morning and do what I love.

And occasionally, I think about that advisor. I hope he's well. I genuinely do.

Because without his doubt, I might not have developed the determination that got me here.

His words didn't destroy my dream. They forged it in fire.

Your doubt—the external kind and the internal kind—can do the same for you.

Let it push you. Let it challenge you. Let it transform into the determination that carries you through when talent and luck aren't enough.

The world is full of people who will doubt you.

Prove them wrong by refusing to doubt yourself.

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Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi