Confession of an engineering student
prove them wrong
The graduation pictures, right now, look so pretty. Some of them reach people that I don’t even know. And it seems like I’m living the dream. But that’s just the highlight reel. That journey was anything but pretty. It's a dream in two: that I got to this finish line. But at the same time, it may be a dream to you because sometimes finishing what you start feels impossible. This drive to finish didn’t come out of nowhere. I remember this story. I must have been 11 or 12 when a boy said girls weren’t as smart as boys. That made me so mad, a fire burning through my chest. For the first time in my life, I studied before a test, just to make sure I could rub it in his face. I ended up proving him wrong. And I was the only girl who finished top two in my 8th grade class. That moment felt like everything. But it didn’t take long to learn that life isn’t graded on middle school tests. Because we all know it’s one thing to prove a kid wrong when you’re a child yourself. It’s another thing to carry that same mentality into adulthood, living in a cycle of proving yourself to others, setting up bars for yourself so high that even you... can’t reach them. And the truth is, it’s one thing to smile in victory when you see a grade, and another to collapse when you see D’s and F’s. Grades were my armor growing up. But failing grades couldn’t protect me in college — could they? They became whole seasons of my life. They came from days depression chained me to bed for weeks and months. Days when showering wasn’t even an option, let alone eating, or having enough energy to move and go to class. I had to get my identity stripped from grades. I retook classes. I withdrew from others. My transcript never told the story of sleepless nights trying to catch up. Was I tempted to take shortcuts? Of course — and for a while I did. My 'good excuse', my brain wasn’t my friend. How could I solve engineering problems when I didn’t even want to breathe? But God was trying to teach me endurance. It caught up to me that who you're becoming on the way to your goals matters more than how fast you get there. Just a little compromise here and there turn into a lifestyle. One where we keep trying to do it all by our own strength—to get the degree, job, awards, just to look good on paper. I had to learn through delay—and delay that I didn't have to cut corners, push through alone. Neither do you. Jesus Himself said: Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28, NLT). God carried me when I couldn’t carry myself. He also put people on my path who encouraged to keep me going — like my program advisor, a strong woman of God. She would look me in the eye and say: “Girl, you’re almost there!” Yes, they were hurdles. I couldn’t learn grit any other way. I couldn’t learn that I wasn’t in control any other way. I couldn’t learn to rely on God and not my strength any other way. I had to speak up for myself to professors. And, file medical petitions with the university to clean up my transcript. That meant giving away personal things I wanted to keep private, medical details I never wanted to disclose. To be vulnerable like that felt as if I was naked in front of a stage everybody knew, except me. Did I ever contemplate quitting? Of course. But how could I explain that to my parents, to my grandparents who sacrificed their knees just so I could stand, just so I could have an education? I kept going. But I had to fight the enemy between my ears. He loved to whisper shame into my brain, that taking more than 4 years meant I was already a failure. The world never saw that fight. The world only sees the pictures now. And they sure do look pretty, but the journey isn’t there in that moment. I fought this disease with God for 14 years: seven years before college, and seven years while in college. And on my last year, I wasn’t depressed. November 2023 was the last month I swallowed an antidepressant to attend class and face life. Yes, I may seem intimidating now. “Oh, she must be so smart. No wonder she studied this.” But the truth is, that's not the full picture. I chose this major because I was horrible at Math. Because depression said it was impossible to get it. In the end, that degree isn’t mine, it’s His.
Heart Call:
God gives us grace for every season — both the starting and the finishing. He called us to be excellent. And He empowers us along the way if we simply ask.
How can you stop beating yourself down in shame for the things you didn’t finish?
And how can you invite Him into the process right now — to take even one step toward that goal this year?