Battle Lost, Battle Won

It is hard for me to express my feelings towards what happened that day. In fact, I do not know how to start this because of the overwhelming gratitude as well as disbelief that I feel while reminiscing at that moment. Nevertheless, I will share this story that even time cannot erase. The story that will remain in my heart and memory whenever life permits after it has changed me entirely.

For the past few months, I have been struggling to keep up with life’s long strides. When I felt I couldn’t do it anymore, I decided to let life drag me. I started throwing the blame on other people. I wept whenever my strength and will would leave me afraid and jaded. For many times I tried to revive my old self—the one who dared to take on any challenges after winning or failing one. However, I just couldn’t stay positive when I felt everything was being crushed down inside me. And after enduring consequent failures, dissatisfaction, and disappointment, I became numb.

The day came when I thought I could win another challenge. In our advertising class, we were divided into groups, supposedly as advertising agencies. In the first activity where we tried to promote our respective agencies to our sole client, our professor, we survived with good remarks. Although we weren’t the best among the five groups, at least placing third gave me the hope that I could still be someone good and kicking.

In the second activity, we were tasked to make a logo and print advertisement for the university’s radio station. We failed to make a good logo but created a simple but rated print ad. It wasn’t a big deal for me since I still believe that we always can make anything better for next time. And we did. Our group produced a radio jingle which lifted our hopes higher than its notes.

Yet, our good days just stopped there.

In our fourth activity, each group needed to propose an innovative product to be approved. Those products chosen for each agency would be advertised during our Ad Congress. It may be good luck or bad, but we were the first to present the first set of our proposals. Unfortunately, none of the three products we proposed was approved. Disappointing. Hope breaking.

With half of our hope stashed away, we presented a different set of proposals for the second time after the four other agencies had their own products approved on their first tries. We gambled our ideas, time, patience, pride, and courage for the second time, but fate forbade us to win a chance.

I walked out of our classroom with a heavy feeling not just because we failed again, but also because while defending in front of those many weighing eyes, no one was there to save me. The people whom I thought would help me were cowering in their safe zone while I was left in a big battleground, defenseless.

I tried to suppress my tears until I got home where I was alone, so no one could see how my hope and optimism shattered into pieces. The littlest light I had had been was drowned again to darkness.

Five days passed and we faced the same battleground. If we don’t win this challenge now, I will go ahead with my plan to bring down with me the other groups, I thought. I discovered that theirs weren’t innovative at all, just like our products which were turned down. Because fate wasn’t fair, I was willing to do a dirty trick so we would all play a fair game. I no longer cared if my decision would stomp anyone as long as I wouldn’t suffer the same fate again. I had enough of it and another failure would be the death of me entirely.

The moment came. I was calm as I walked towards the front of the whole class. I tried not to worry whether our product would be approved or not, but I was thinking: could I do the least good thing to the people I was with for almost three years.

For a lot of times, they made me feel I didn’t belong with them; for a lot of times, they disappointed me; for a lot of times, they let me fall…for a lot of times, we stood together to take a challenge; for a lot of times, they did me a favor; for a lot of times, we shared and laughed at jokes, cried and comforted each other…for a lot of times, I fought and survived college life with them. Could I betray these people? Maybe I could.

First product down... My knees were buckling. Second product down... My heart was hammering. Third product down... My spirit lay dying on the ground.

Our professor gave us some minutes to come up with another idea, but I just couldn’t think straight. Everyone was suggesting ideas, but my mind was too clouded I barely understood any of them. Then I told one of my groupmates, “Try re-defending the first idea. Explain it well.” She was hesitant at first, but I managed to convince her. Together, we defended it again, but our strength wasn’t just enough. Then, one by one, they raised their hands and volunteered to help us defend our fight. Those people who weren’t our members at all were helping us guard our stand. I was in disbelief.

Standing in front of the class with my groupmates behind me and them, the people I planned to tag down with us to failure, helping us build our defense, uplifting our hopes, I just couldn’t help, but remember another memory.

I recalled facing the same battleground a year before. In front of the same faces, divided into two principles they were holding onto, I tried to set a matter in place. I was defending one group against another even though I wasn’t supposed to take sides. I served as their voice and I expected them to be my strength, but they left me just in time I needed their support. I made peace with the other group, but I lost my trust in the other. Since then, the feeling of being left alone by the people I thought would fight alongside me left a mark on me.

On countless times, the whole class did that to me that was why I learned to be more careful about trusting any of them. I did things on my own and tried very hard to ask only the least of things from them. I lived that way until that day.

Hearing my professor approve our product after defending it with the help of every person in that room, I felt regretful for holding a grudge for so long and for trying to betray them. I was sorry for myself for shutting away the good impression I had for them. Words might not be enough to show how regretful I was of thinking that way about them and how grateful I was for their help in winning that challenge, I still ought to say sorry and thank you—two phrases that I always found hard to say.

One great thing I learned from that day was to free myself of negative impressions to see the good things the world has to offer. I should have not caged myself in doubt but in the certainty that there is always someone willing to help you win a battle you chose to fight alone.

I did not spill a tear at that moment because I wanted them to see that finally, I finally found my strength from them, that I finally found my place among my peers. I am no longer a stranger and they are no longer my rival. They are my friends.

(I wrote this when I was in college, sometime in 2014. I never published it until now.)