Who Killed My Dream

A girl between the dream of medicine and the harshness of reality.

My dream was not big in the eyes of the world, but it was my whole world. Since I was in the seventh grade, I saw myself as a doctor, wearing the white coat and healing hearts before bodies. For me, the dream of medicine was not just a profession, but a calling I wanted to live for.

This dream grew with me year after year, despite the difficulty of the path. I used to travel from my village to another village to continue my education, then I moved to the city to complete my studies. I endured the hardship of the road because I believed that every step has a price and that the end of the road is worth all this exhaustion.

And my dream was not only to become a doctor, but I also dreamed of returning to the neighborhood where I grew up and building a school for its children, so that no child would have to abandon his dream or travel in search of knowledge as I did.

But the road I thought would lead me to my dream led me to closed doors. The circumstances of life stood in my way, then social restrictions and customs and traditions came to make the road even more difficult. And the pain was not in the obstacles alone, but in the fact that some of those I thought were my support did not see my dream as I saw it, so my journey stopped before I arrived.

In a single moment, I did not only lose my studies, but I lost a part of myself. As if the dream of becoming a doctor was torn away from me before it could see the light.

The hardest thing a person can experience is not to become tired, but to stand still while seeing those who are the same age as him, or younger than him, or older than him, achieving their dreams and reaching the places he wished to reach. Then he realizes that some dreams do not die suddenly, but ache every day, with every success he sees, and every white coat that passes before his eyes, and every doctor who reminds him of what he once wished for himself.

They say that time heals everything, but there are dreams that time does not heal; rather, it teaches their owner how to live while carrying their pain in his heart.