No one asked. Not that they didn’t want to, perhaps they simply didn’t see it. Change arrives subtly, silently. Nobody noticed as that once-vibrant girl slowly grew quieter, lost her energy, and drifted further away than ever before.

It was like the fine dust that slowly settles on a windowpane, gradually obscuring the view behind it.

Everything began the day the doors of the school were closed. For many, it was just a political decision, but for me, it was the end of the world upon which I had built the foundation of my dreams. School wasn’t just a place for lessons; it was life itself. When I lost that environment, I gradually detached from everything: from my friends, from my hopes, and from the girl I used to be.

After that day, the world slowly darkened, and the sun no longer held any warmth.

Days came and went, and the nights pressed down on my heart, heavier than ever, like a sodden, suffocating blanket. My mind was filled with questions, but there was no space for complaint, nor anyone to listen.

My phone was in my hand, and as usual, I was scrolling through the Instagram Explore page. As always, it was saturated with those motivational videos—the boring, repetitive kind.

How carefree must their lives be for them to constantly preach repeating positive affirmations?

My heart ached for those who genuinely believed those videos could fix their mood. How can a video possibly save someone’s life? Another motivational clip opened. The bright screen light shone directly onto my face. The speaker’s voice was calm and firm, as if he was speaking directly to me. He delivered a piece of ridiculous advice: “No one is coming to save you. You have to get up yourself.”

A sentence I’d heard a thousand times, but this time it sounded more foolish than ever. How can a person care so much for everyone and want to keep everyone happy, only to realize that when they need help, no one is willing to offer it? Right there, I put the phone down and stared out the window. The night was darker than usual, and the sound of crickets filled the air. That sentence had etched itself into my mind like an inscription on stone. I couldn’t believe it then, but I couldn’t shake it either—perhaps because it was the truth. I saved the video and watched it several times. A few days later, I finally understood it was the right message, and I began to search deeper. I scoured, I read, I listened. Books, podcasts, absorbing the experiences and stories of people who had been broken like me and had risen again. Every word they wrote was a small light in the darkness of my mind. Despite all the reading and all my efforts, something vital was still missing. I was only reading books and listening to podcasts, and to me, that wasn’t enough. I missed the structure of classes, the scent of new textbooks, and my goals. Then one day, amidst my endless searching, my eye caught the name of an online School for Afghan girls. Several feelings rushed toward me simultaneously: doubt, hope, fear, and elation. I clicked the link and filled out the registration form. After days oscillating between doubt and happiness, I finally received my acceptance email.

The first day of the online school, I felt a sense of profound relief. I had re-entered a world I thought I had lost. Online classes might not have replicated the physical atmosphere of a real school, but my hope had returned. It felt as if this small opening had washed away the heavy dust weighing on my heart. Achieving my goals was no longer an impossible dream.