That day meant more than just marks.

It was the 30th of April earlier than expected when my board results came out. The night before, I couldn’t sleep. The what-ifs kept circling: what if I didn’t meet my parents' expectations, what if I didn’t match up to my cousins, what if I failed my family? I knew I had worked hard, maybe not perfectly, but I had tried. Still, the fear of disappointing everyone of being talked about in hushed tones in the family was too much.

I knew I had worked hard. Maybe not consistently all year, but I had poured whatever I could into those last few months in between family chaos, broken friendships, and the usual distractions of teenage life which obviously included loads of self doubt. And still, there was this sinking fear: “What if it’s not enough?”

At 10:30 AM, with trembling hands, I typed in my roll number. When the results flashed on the screen, tears came instantly not performative tears, not the kind you shed in front of people, but the kind that comes from deep, unspoken fear and relief all tangled together. Not because the marks were bad but because they were more than I had ever imagined.I couldn’t believe it. I had spent the past year thinking I was falling behind going out too much, scrolling too much, living too much. And yet, somehow, this was the outcome. Was pretty amazed to look at people who studied for so many hours, learnt every page, looked down at me getting lower marks than me. For me it was ac achievement.

For a brief moment, I was proud. But in our society, moments like that are fragile. The phone rang. Relatives congratulated me until they heard another known person’s marks. A few marks higher. And just like that, the narrative shifted. “You could’ve done better. You should’ve focused more. Imagine if you had studied instead of going out.”

It stung. Deeply. Because no one saw the nights I cried silently, the weight I carried in a home that wasn’t always peaceful, the self-doubt that gnawed at me through every revision. They only saw the numbers and compared.

For three days, the comparisons haunted me. Even though I was among the top 10 in my class, even though my teacher (the one who believed in me when no one did) was so proud inside, I questioned myself again: Was it enough?

And then, slowly, clarity came. I wasn’t fully happy with my marks but only because of what society and family though. Deep down, I was proud. I had lived my life through it all the stress, the distractions, the family noise and still managed to score well. That’s when I realised: I should never doubt myself.

I am proud. I am happy. I lived my school life the way teenagers should because once it’s gone, it won’t come back. Not many teachers had faith in me, but one did and that mattered. Life never gave me easy choices, but I’ve never begged for approval. I still believe everything happens for a reason and so should everyone do.

Marks were and still are just numbers. They don’t define people. But in Indian society, they often do. At family gatherings, the first question asked is, “What did you score?” not “How are you doing?” Social media becomes flooded with screenshots of top marks. News channels run headlines about toppers, but no one talks about the student who balanced household chores while studying, or the one who struggled with anxiety but still showed up for every exam.

There are students who live in single-room homes, where siblings fight for space to study. There are students caring for sick parents or helping with family businesses, waking up at 4 AM to manage both. Some students don’t have access to high-end coaching centres or private tutors, yet they still give their best.

If a person worked hard, if they gave what they could under their circumstances, that is enough. But often, society overlooks this effort and focuses only on the number. One cousin scoring a few marks higher can overshadow another’s quiet resilience. A neighbour’s child getting 99% becomes the new benchmark, without understanding what each journey looked like.

At the end of the day, it is not the percentage that shapes one’s future it is character, values, adaptability, and passion. The ability to face life’s uncertainties, the kindness shown to others, and the willingness to keep learning will always matter more.

"Your worth is not measured by your productivity or your success. You are enough, simply because you exist."