Not all victories came in grand moments. Some were small, quiet, and easily overlooked. But they mattered just as much.
Akutu had done it. She had stood before the class, spoken her words, and finished her presentation. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. And for the first time in a long while, she felt proud of herself.
But healing wasn't a straight path. Even after that moment, doubt still lingered, and pressure still whispered in her mind. The difference was—she had learned to take things one step at a time.
The next day, Jenny found her at the library.
"How does it feel to be a superstar?" she teased, dropping her books onto the table.
Akutu rolled her eyes. "Hardly a superstar. But… it feels good."
Jenny smirked. "Told you. Small victories count too."
Akutu thought about that. Small victories. The things no one else noticed—the extra hour of sleep, the meal she didn't skip, the moments she spent reading for herself rather than just for exams.
They weren't dramatic, but they were important.
Later that evening, she sat on her bed, notebook in hand. Writing felt different now. Not like an escape, but like a part of her she was finally learning to balance with the rest of her life.
She wrote:
"Sometimes, we look for big wins to prove that we're doing well. But maybe, the real proof is in the small things—the moments where we choose progress over perfection, self-care over exhaustion, and patience over fear."
She closed the notebook and exhaled.
She wasn't where she wanted to be yet. But she was moving forward. And that was enough.
The pulleys of life had shifted once again.