From Application to Victory: My IELTS Prize Story

        “Try”, something my mother had always told me to do, but doubt and fear have this funny way of holding you back, even if there’s this tiny voice in your mind telling you not to listen. I almost didn’t do it, the video and applying for the IELTS prize competition. I didn’t think I could do it; I didn’t think I was good enough to join. My doubts and fears were loud, and every night, ever since my mom encouraged me to join, was filled with long overthinking sessions where I just lay in bed staring at the ceiling, all while my doubts and fears battled with that tiny voice in my head. It went on for days, but what snapped me out of it and made me realise that I should at least give it a try was the song “The Climb”. It played on my Spotify while I was having one of the many overthinking sessions I’ve had before bed; something about that song made me realise that yes, I have to try, and if I lose? Then great, it’s fine. As Miley Cyrus said in the song “Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose”, and if that happens, it won’t mean I don’t have the potential or that I’m not enough. It won’t erase the fact that I’ve tried, that I was brave enough to listen to that small voice when my fears and doubts were much louder. It won’t erase all the work I put in and the effort that I’ve given. Losing isn’t failure—it’s part of the climb. And with this realisation, my mind opened up to what could be, how the prize could help me if I were fortunate enough to win; I’m an international student, if I were to win, the prize would be an enormous help to my financial needs, and would help lessen the financial burden on my parents' shoulders. With all that in mind, I decided that I would no longer let my doubts and fears run the show, and with that thought, I realised another thing: I was right way back when I thought about how I usually am in situations like this, that it was futile to hold off on making a decision, because for some reason the more terrified I am about doing something, and the more I doubt my own ability to deliver, the more likely I am to say yes in the end, ridiculous isn’t it? It's genuinely funny how our mind works. And so, the next day, I opened my laptop and drafted the contents of my video, and from then on, I continued to prepare for the entire thing. Every word I said, every little gesture I made, I reminded myself that I was doing this not for anyone else, but for my parents and me—and that tiny voice that has been rooting for me since day one.

        Now, the preparation process was far from easy, as expected. The reason behind this is the fact that not only do I have to find the right words to convey my story and experience, but I also have to go through the gruelling process of video recording, where I, of course, have to be able to remember exactly what I’m supposed to say for each clip, which may seem easy, but its not really. There were numerous times when I said the wrong line or forgot the line altogether; moments where I forgot to press the record button, fell victim to procrastination, got constantly interrupted by the noise of the truck that refills the water supply of our apartment building, and even an instance where I literally fell asleep while waiting for the truck to finish what it came to do—all while still being recorded by my phone. Despite all of this, what kept me motivated was the thought of why I started in the first place: to challenge myself, to help my parents financially and to honour their support, as well as to prove to myself that my fears and doubts did not get to decide what I was capable of.

So once the recording was finally done, I thought the hardest part was over, but the editing process proved otherwise. Sitting in front of my laptop, trying to learn how to navigate and use the tools in the editing app I downloaded simply for the purpose of editing the video, watching and rewatching clips, trimming, fixing mistakes, and choosing which moments best represented my story was both exhausting and strangely fulfilling. It forced me to be patient—with the process, and with myself. Each cut and adjustment felt like another step toward something I had once been too afraid to even begin. By the time the final video came together, and I finally submitted my application for the IELTS prize, I saw the effort, persistence, and proof that I had followed through. And in its own way, that made every frustrating moment worth it.

        So when I found out through my mom that I had won, I was, of course, in disbelief. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Mainly because I was dead asleep when it happened, and just woke up due to my mom literally bursting into my room, practically vibrating from excitement, telling me I’ve won. I was frozen, still half in dreamland, while she was reading the email to me. Disbelief and a tiny spark of excitement battled it out in my chest while I just sat there, letting it all sink in—partly awake, partly confused, but fully aware that something incredible had just happened. But when my mind finally rebooted, it wasn’t the prize itself that struck me first, but the realisation that choosing to try had truly paid off. 

        Winning, to me, goes beyond receiving a prize or being recognised. Of course, the financial support meant a great deal—especially as an international student, where every form of assistance helps ease the burden not only on me, but on my parents as well. It was also a great reminder that the time, courage, and effort poured into this journey mattered. But more than that, winning represents something deeply personal. It would affirm that choosing to try—despite fear, doubt, and uncertainty—was the right choice. It stands as proof that to be brave, one must first be terrified, and that growth often begins at a point where discomfort starts, and that to believe in myself, even when it feels difficult, was worthwhile.

At the same time, I’ve come to understand that I have already gained something invaluable from this experience. The process taught me resilience, patience, and the importance of showing up for myself. So while winning opened new doors for me and provided support, it also symbolises something far greater: the moment I chose courage, let my doubts and fears become lessons, and decided to really try, I realised that, in itself, is already a victory.

Well, who would’ve thought that little voice knew a lot more than it let on. So, if you’re looking for a sign, consider this one. A word of advice: Turn your fear into growth, and never be afraid to try.