via Rowelyn L. Lasam
You are pictured as ‘excellent’ in their eyes….
For students, a certificate of recognition or medals proudly clanking as one walks and shines on stage is a dream fulfilled. Behind it are sleepless nights, tired eyes, and sacrifices hidden from sight—all for the sake of growling validation.
But recognition doesn’t last forever. It feels like a death threat—you’re no one if they don’t see medals dangling or certificates signed with your name. And these should never expire. Every grading period, you are expected to come home with proof of your ‘triumph’, which will be something that they can proudly display.
The bar was already set high before you even began. It’s not just the legacy of expectations you’ve inherited—it’s also the credit demanded by watchful eyes, scanning every list, every label, making sure your name is still there among the performing students.
Label “’Di ba dati kasama ka sa top?”
A question thrown so lightly, yet cuts deeply. It sounds less like curiosity and more like accusation, a reminder of what you failed to grasp.
That label—top student—is all they choose to see. They care only about the image that you hold, not the stories beneath - the internal battles, exhaustion gnawing you in the core, the anxiety fueled by expectations- all the weight you carry alone.
To them, excellence is a product, not a process.
Each tear, each sigh, becomes part of a struggle no one talks about. What should have been a chapter for growth turns into suffocation. Students learn to hide it, to pretend they are strong enough to keep up, even when the pace is breaking them down.
Deteriorating Health
Behind every medal is a student carrying a body close to breaking. To maintain grades, many trade sleep for pages of reviewers and replace meals with quick sips of coffee. The body becomes restless, the mind weakened, yet the demand to perform never slows down.
Health is waving goodbye silently. Dark circles form under tired eyes, headaches become daily companions, and anxiety grows with every deadline. Yet most remain quiet, afraid that speaking out would be mistaken for weakness.
You’re good in their eyes—until the expiration date comes. Then, you become nothing but a story in the past.
But remember, you are more than what they measure. You are enough. Always enough.
