I was quite sure when my father handed me a packet of tissue papers yesterday, saying, "You would need it later," he didn't think that I would be using them to wipe away my tears.

Time and again I struggle with myself, trying to pick myself up a failure after another. I pride myself for being determined. Never once have I gave up, thinking that I am just not good enough, maybe it is meant to be or I am just not that smart. I have always believed that if I have absolutely no trust in myself to do well, no faith and not proud of myself, nobody else would.