Some moments change your life instantly.
Others take their time.

When the results for the Presidential School were released, there were no names—only numbers. Each of us had been given an ID number, and that number was all we were allowed to search for. No identities, no faces—just cold digits on a long list.

Only 24 students would be accepted.

I typed in my ID number, my hands steady but my heart anything but. I scanned the list again. And again.

Then I saw it.

25th place.

One number below the line.
One step away from the dream.

At that moent, I felt like the unluckiest child alive. Being twenty-fifth is not failure—but when the limit is twenty-four, it feels like rejection in its purest form. I had worked hard, hoped quietly, and believed deeply. And yet, I was left just outside the gate.

Days passed.
Then weeks.

Life moved on, or at least it pretended to. I told myself to accept it, to be grateful for the effort, to stop waiting for something that had already ended. But deep down, that number stayed with me.

Twenty-five.

Exactly one month later, my phone rang.

It was a call from the Presidential School.

For a moment, I thought there had been a mistake. But then I heard the words that changed everything: one of the originally accepted students had chosen to continue their studies at Al-Khwarizmi School. A place had opened.

And that place was mine.

In that instant, I understood what it meant to be both the luckiest and unluckiest child at the same time. Unlucky to miss the initial list by one position. Lucky to learn that sometimes life rewards patience in ways you cannot predict.

That experience reshaped the way I see failure.

I learned that rejection is not always final. That rankings do not measure destiny. That sometimes, the answer is not “no,” but “not yet.” And that waiting—though painful—can be part of the victory.

This blog exists because of that lesson.

It exists for those who come close, who miss the line by one step, who feel unseen because their number is just outside the circle. If you are one of them, remember this:

Your moment may be delayed, but it is not denied.

I was twenty-fifth.
And still, I made it in.

Welcome to my story.
This is only the beginning.