“It’s sad to be number 1, and my father didn’t see anything. He didn’t see me receive the awar…
“It’s sad to be number 1, and my father didn’t see anything. He didn’t see me receive the award; he didn’t see me stand there on the stage, smiling through the excitement and nerves. He didn’t hear the applause or see the pride in my eyes as I held the trophy. The truth is, that moment felt hollow without him there to share it. Being number 1 is supposed to feel like the culmination of all your hard work, the realization of your dreams. But when you look around and the person who’s always been your biggest supporter is absent, the victory is hard to savor.
My father was the one who taught me to aim high, to push myself beyond what I thought was possible. He was the one who stayed up late with me, helping me study for exams or comforting me when I doubted myself. He was always there, believing in me when I couldn’t even believe in myself. He saw potential in me long before I saw it in myself.
So, standing there, I couldn’t help but feel the emptiness. Winning felt like an achievement with no one to share it with. The calls and messages from friends and family couldn’t fill the gap. They didn’t understand the weight of it. They didn’t understand that what I really wanted in that moment was for him to be there, to see me. I wanted to tell him, ‘We did it, Dad,’ but he wasn’t there to hear it.
It’s strange, this feeling of being on top and yet longing for someone who’s gone. I’ve realized that sometimes being number 1 isn’t enough. It’s the people who help you get there that really matter.”
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