I didn't write this book because I passed the boards.

I wrote it because I almost didn't.

This is not a story of genius, shortcuts, or perfect review plans. It's a story of slow mornings, panic-filled nights, failed blocks, delayed dreams, and small, defiant rituals. A story of someone who fell behind and stayed behind—and still made it.

If you're holding this and wondering if you'll ever finish... if you're somewhere in the middle of your own mountain, exhausted from climbing... this is for you.

I was you.

I know what it's like to study while grieving. To reread the same page five times and still not get it. To cry over your review notes. To wear the same clothes because they feel lucky. To feel guilty for resting. To watch people move ahead of you, and wonder if your turn will ever come.

I know what it's like to fail, and not just once.

But I also know what it's like to stay. And that's what this book is really about—not success, but staying.

Each chapter in this book is a season. A wound. A quiet comeback. I wrote it for people who've been called too emotional, too slow, too soft, too tired—for people who carry invisible weights while trying to chase visible dreams.

There are no perfect answers here. No formulas. Just stories.

And maybe, if nothing else, this book can be the voice that says:
"You're not the only one. And you're not too late."