How I Became the Odd One Who Actually Won

It feels almost surreal when I think back to where it all started—at 18, when I left my hometown in Rajasthan, alone, to pursue my undergrad in Gujarat. I wasn’t the type of student who always aced exams, and I certainly wasn’t the star of my school. I was the kid who needed supplementary exams to make it through. But somewhere between navigating a new city and trying to prove myself, I went from barely passing to graduating as the top computer programming student in my batch. That was my first big win, and it set the tone for everything that followed.

Then came my master’s in Chennai, and that’s where the rebel in me really began to take shape. I wasn’t content with just the academics. The system there was all about grades, grades, and more grades. Everyone around me was obsessed with getting 90%, but I realized early on that life wasn’t going to ask for perfect scores—it was going to ask for adaptability, creativity, and grit. So, I threw myself into everything I could: I joined the web designing club, the entrepreneurship club, and started pushing myself into spaces where I could learn things that weren’t taught in classrooms. I was the only one in my MCA batch who participated in all these extracurricular activities. I became the stage anchor for a musical event (and I still remember how I couldn’t even do a one-liner intro in front of my classmates earlier), organized tech conferences, and even started doing impromptu sales. I didn’t know I could handle any of this, but I did it. And that’s how I went from being a shy student to the one who had the guts to rag my seniors when they tried ragging me.

Being in a Marwari family, I always felt like the odd one out. But it didn’t stop at academics or even breaking norms within the family. I married a Tamilian at 26—his family doesn’t speak Hindi, and mine doesn’t speak Tamil. For my family, that was a huge leap. But for me, it was another step toward realizing that there was no one path to follow and that the idea of being different was something I could embrace, not fight.

After graduation, I found myself at a crossroads. I was in a high-paying design job, but I hated the culture. It wasn’t fulfilling. So, I left it all behind, choosing to earn far less and work late hours while I freelanced, picked up new skills, and started collaborating with early-stage startups.

I needed something more meaningful, and I wasn’t about to settle. Then, out of nowhere, I made another leap into design recruitment—a field that didn’t even exist when I started. I built a reputation, became an expert, and the next thing I knew, I was teaching companies how to hire for design roles. It was wild. But that was my life: learning to make paths where there weren’t any.

From 2020, I started pushing myself to build habits that I once thought were impossible. I couldn’t sit through reading more than five pages of a book without falling asleep. But in 2023, I read 112 books.
I never thought I could write a blog, but after a personal challenge in June 2020, I wrote my first blog post, and since then, I’ve written over 100.
I couldn’t imagine traveling alone, but at 30, I took my first solo trip—and then, I did five more in the same year.
I used to kill cacti with my inability to care for plants, but now, I grow thousands of them with my husband.

Looking back, I couldn’t even do a 15-minute hike. Yet, in 13 months, I completed six 4-day Himalayan treks. Those treks were emotional—each step was a battle between the physical and mental self. But they taught me something important: the strength I thought I lacked was always there. It just took me some time to realize it.

I never followed the traditional path, and it wasn’t always easy. There were moments when I felt insecure, out of place, and like I was just too different. But what I’ve learned is that being the odd one out isn’t a failure. It’s a success. It’s the success that allows you to redefine your own journey, pick up skills most people overlook, and create something that’s uniquely yours.

So, when I look at where I am today, I see all those years of struggle, all those wrong turns, and all those strange choices—like they were part of a bigger story that I was writing for myself. It’s my story, and it’s far from over. The truth is, I didn’t need to fit in. I needed to grow, and that’s what I’ve been doing, every step of the way.

And trust me, if I can go from barely making it through school to scaling mountains (literally and figuratively), then so can you. It’s all part of the process. Just keep going, even when you’re not sure you have the strength to keep climbing. You might be surprised at what you’ll find when you get to the top.