But nothing could prepare me for the fear and anxiety I felt – the confidence I had built slowly shattering, and the pillow soaked in tears each night.

Over time, I learned to silence the hurtful comments and fear that lay deep inside. I started sketching, writing, reading, cooking and spending time with my family -and I found myself laughing more often. I realized that no test score gave me the happiness I felt when doing what I loved. So I started making time for both – studies and joy – and that’s made all the difference.

“Perfect, Until She Wasn’t” is the story of a girl who had it all – the applause and recognition – but was still longing for happiness. Through this story, I hope to share a message that’s close to my heart: it’s okay to fall, not to know what to do, to feel lost. But it’s always worth fighting for what makes you happy - even if others don’t understand.

Perfect, Until She Wasn’t

The spotlight blinded her eyes. Her feet were shaking, adrenaline rushing through her body.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, proud parents and friends, join me in welcoming the star of the night – Anaya Mathew, CBSE Class 12 Board Topper with All India Rank 10!”

The auditorium erupted with applause. She glanced quickly at her younger sister in the audience – her sister nodded approvingly. Her focus shifted toward the Principal standing a few steps away, a medal and trophy in hand. She straightened her posture, took a deep breath, and walked ahead, her heels hitting the wooden floorboard.

“Congratulations, Anaya. You’ve made us proud once again,” said the Principal as he gently placed the medal on her neck, the circular metal gleaming under the light.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, accepting the trophy. She looked at the camera and gave her best smile.

Welcome to the life of Anaya Mathew- the golden child from day one.

Head Girl of the Senior Council, Olympiad medalist, captivating performer, and most certainly, a charmer. Her thick, long black hair complemented her hazel eyes, and with her tinted red lips, it looked like she’d stepped out of a movie.

Everyone in Lavender Heights School wanted to be Anaya Mathew – everyone except herself.

The sun shone brightly in the sky – maybe a bit too brightly for the little town.

“I told you to get the AC fixed, no? Now we’re all going to suffer a heatstroke,” grumbled Mrs. Mathew.

The aroma of crispy, filled dosas floated through the Mathew household.

“I already spoke to him. He’ll be here today,” replied Mr. Mathew, still focused on the news headlines on his phone.

“Anaya, are you up yet? I told you – the news reporters are arriving today!” Mrs. Mathew shouted from the kitchen.

A tall figure walked down the stairs in an impeccable sky-blue dress.

“Amma, how does this look?” Anaya asked, finally lifting her gaze to her mother.

“Just perfect,” Mrs. Mathew smiled.

“Thanks, Amma.”

“I hope you’ve practiced your lines.”

“What lines, Amma? My interview will go fine. Don’t worry so much.”

“I’m trusting you, Anaya. You’ve got to be fantastic. Not a single flaw. You have to be perfect.”

Mrs. Mathew quickly put two dosas on a plate with her daughter’s favourite tomato chutney and handed it to her.

Anaya slowly took the plate, her mind still caught on those last few words: “Not a single flaw. You have to be perfect.”

Perfect? Is anyone really perfect? Am I perfect? I could be perfect…right?

Her train of thought was interrupted by a loud crash from upstairs.

“Sorryy Ammaaa!” squeaked Avya, Anaya’s little sister.

“How many times have I told you to be careful? And please get dressed for chechi’s interview!”

“Okay Amma!” said Avya, her footsteps wandering back to her room.

Interview with the news reporters

8th June 2025

11:00 am

“Ms. Anaya Mathew, tell us, how does it feel to achieve such an outstanding AIR? And please – do tell us your secret.”

“It feels really good to achieve something that has been a dream of mine for quite some time. Honestly, I don’t have a secret. I believe if you’re determined and hardworking, with the support of your loved ones, no goal is too far away.”

“That’s lovely! And now a question for the proud parents – how does it feel to have such an accomplished daughter?”

Mr. Mathew straightened up. “Well, we knew Anaya was special from childhood. She could speak full sentences by two, was always first in her class, and showed interest in things most children wouldn’t.”

“She truly sounds like a special girl.”

“Well, that’s a wrap for today. Great work, everyone!”

The senior journalist got up to shake hands with Mr. Mathew. Anaya offered a polite smile and walked upstairs to her room.

Her room had soft blue walls – her favourite colour. Medals and certificates hung proudly on the walls, trophies filled every shelf.

You might think that was her favourite part of the room.

Wrong.

It was her comfortable bed, with stuffed animals by her side. The bed was her safe space. The pillows absorbed her deepest secrets.

Beside the window, stood an empty canvas – untouched, collecting dust.

She approached it slowly. The memories rushed back – her childhood, when it was just her and her poster colours and no one could take that away.

Well – maybe someone did.

Two years ago – The Mathew household (Anaya’s bedroom)

“Please, please don’t take them away, Appa! I’m sorry! I’ll work harder from now on, please,” cried Anaya as Appa took away her painting supplies.

“Have you seen your 10th Board Results? All this painting will get you nowhere. I should have taken these away long ago. You are not my daughter,” he screamed, throwing away her drawings, paintings, and newly bought canvases.

That night, Anaya didn’t come down for dinner. She sat by the window, angry tears filling her eyes.

She stood up and faced her greatest enemy – her 10th Board results glowing from the computer screen.

89%

A failure in the Mathew household.

There was a small creak at the door. Avya peeked in.

“Here… I got this for you. But please don’t tell Appa or Amma,” Avya whispered, handing her a fresh canvas.

“I also wanted to say… I’m proud of you, chechi. You don’t have to be perfect to be my hero.”

“Thanks, Avya,” Anaya said, pulling her sister into a hug.

“Anaya! Anaya!” Mrs. Mathew’s voice echoed as she walked upstairs.

“Yes, Amma, just a minute,” Anaya called, stealing one last glance at the untouched canvas.

She hurried downstairs. Her parents were staring at an envelope on the dining table.

“What’s happening, Amma? Appa?”

“A letter came – from IIT Delhi.”

Anaya rushed over.

Already? Don’t I ever get a break? First the interview, and now this?

She opened the envelope. Silence filled the room.

She froze.

“What does it say?” Mr. Mathew asked impatiently.

The letter dropped from her hand.

“What? What does it say?” Mrs. Mathew asked anxiously.

Mr. Mathew picked up the letter and read it aloud.

“Dear Ms. Anaya Mathew, after reviewing your application and the qualifications of other candidates, we regret to inform you that we have decided not to move forward with your application at this time…”

His voice trailed off.

“What?! How could this happen? What did we do wrong? You were perfect!” Mr. Mathew yelled, throwing the letter to the floor.

Mrs. Mathew stood in stunned silence. Their perfect daughter had failed the entrance exam.

Anaya ran upstairs, sobbing.

I was never good enough. Not now. Not two years ago. I’m a failure.

She pushed her books away. The pillow became heavy with tears.

After a long cry, a strange comfort settled in. She had let it all out.

The canvas stood patiently at the other side of the room. Watching. Waiting.

She approached it.

She touched its surface – the rough, familiar feel.

She opened the bottom drawer of her study table. The colours inside looked back at her, almost smiling.

Anaya took her brush and dipped the tip into the paint. The canvas stared back.

It started with a dot. Then a stroke. Slowly, she regained confidence. Stroke by stroke, she created something of her own.

For the first time in a long while, a genuine smile appeared on her face.

She was done.

She held the painting in her arms, then propped it up to dry.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

She didn’t flinch.

“How could you? You ungrateful child! We spent all our money on your tuitions – and this is how you repay us?” Mr. Mathew bellowed.

Mrs. Mathew stood in disbelief.

“Oh, what’s this now? Didn’t I take this away long ago?” he growled, eyeing the drying painting.

“Appa,” Anaya began, her voice calm. “I’ve applied to backup colleges – for art.”

“I think I’m going to faint,” gasped Mrs. Mathew.

“This is not the daughter I raised for 17 years!” shouted Mr. Mathew.

“Please. Let me explain. I’ve never liked math or science. I know you gave me two options: engineering or medicine. But why can’t I pursue something I love?

We admire both APJ Abdul Kalam and Mother Teresa, right? They have nothing in common. That proves success comes in many forms. Mother Teresa didn’t need math or science – she was remembered for her compassion and kindness.

That’s the kind of success I want too.”

“I… I don’t know if I’ll ever understand your point. You want to go to art school? Fine. I won’t pay for it. If you can, go ahead. I’m leaving,” scoffed Mr. Mathew.

Mrs. Mathew followed him, trying to calm him down.

10 years later

“Sold! For 10 million rupees! Congratulations, Ms. Anaya Mathew!”

Anaya stepped up to the podium in a stunning red dress.

“I don’t know how to thank you all for the love and support. But there’s someone I’d like to thank specially – my little sister, Avya. This journey wasn’t easy. I lost a few people on the way. But Avya, thank you for always staying.”

Avya ran up and hugged her.

Mr. and Mrs. Mathew smiled from the audience.

“Congratulations, Anaya. You’ve always been a rebel, haven’t you?” Mr. Mathew said proudly.

“Thanks, Appa. And Amma too, thank you for coming. It means a lot.”

“Anaya… can we start over again?” Mrs. Mathew asked.

“I’d really like that,” Anaya replied.

“Okay then, we’ll keep in touch. Come Avya – let’s go home.”

“Coming!” Avya said, leaving the hall hand-in-hand with her sister.

Maybe their relationship wasn’t fully fixed. But that’s okay.

Mr. and Mrs. Mathew had finally learned that true success wasn’t a gold medal or an entrance exam result.

It was happiness. And if their daughters were happy – so were they.

Anaya breaks free from the chains of doubt and insecurity, letting her imagination soar. She feels an emotion she once thought was lost and could never be felt again - true happiness. Her story reminds us of the power of daring to dream. As APJ Abdul Kalam once said, “You have to dream before your dreams can come true.” In the end, true happiness isn’t found in perfection – it’s found in perspective.