I was born in 1993, growing up in a loving family. But life wasn’t always as beautiful as I had hoped. In 2002, a heavy trial began when my parents became victims of a massive fraud. Over 600 million rupiah vanished just like that, drastically changing our family’s financial situation.
Not long after, in 2003, a fire struck my parents’ shop. All of our business and hard work went up in flames in an instant. I could see how hard it was for my parents to face that reality, especially my father. Blow after blow kept coming. A year later, my father suddenly fell ill, and the doctors diagnosed him with a chronic disease. As a family, we tried our best to care for him, but in 2005, he passed away. A deep sense of loss instantly filled our home.
Amidst the grief, I tried to rise. After finishing school, in 2011, I tried my luck with the national university entrance exam, applying for Pure Chemistry at UNESA. But fate had other plans — I didn’t pass. Refusing to give up, I chose to enroll at Arya Wiraraja University instead.
The year 2014 was full of change. I worked while finishing my thesis at a nearby branch of a Sharia bank. That same year, I got married. But that happiness didn’t last long. A year later, when I was pregnant, I found out that my husband had married another woman. It felt like my world collapsed when I also learned he already had another child, just three months younger than mine. After the separation, I decided to stay single and focus on raising my child on my own.
In 2016, I decided to move to another city — far from all the painful memories. In that new place, I tried various jobs. But eventually, I chose to be a full-time mother because I couldn’t bear to leave my child just for work.
In 2017, a new problem arose when I had a dispute with my father’s family over inheritance. I stood my ground to defend what was rightfully mine and my child’s. In the midst of that pressure, in 2018, the doctors discovered a benign tumor in my neck. I felt as though I was being tested endlessly.
Then 2020 came, and with it the pandemic that struck my business hard. Many of my business branches were forced to close, and my debts piled up to 80 million rupiah. I had no choice but to surrender everything to Allah. Prayer became my only refuge and strength.
Two years later, the light finally began to shine. I managed to pay off my debts, and my business started running again. In 2024, after nine long years of waiting, I finally decided to file for my own divorce decree. It felt like a huge relief — as if I had opened a new chapter in my life. Now, in 2025, I am still here. Surviving, moving forward, and still fighting.
I may not be perfect, but I’ve always believed that all these wounds and trials have only made me stronger. And I know, even when I often feel alone, I have Allah by my side, always.
Photo by Martino Pietropoli on Unsplash
