I love astronomy.

Starting from a passion for mathematics ever since my early years of life (and, of course, a great curiosity), I wanted to discover and learn on my own as many things as I could. My primary school years looked bright; I participated in all kinds of math contests at the invitation of my teacher, achieving some of the best results in my class.

In the first year of middle school (which, for me and many others in my generation, started during a global pandemic), I continued to get good results compared to my classmates, although it didn't feel quite good enough. Then came 6th grade, which brought the happiest failure I've ever had. With a bit of motivation from the previous year, I trained a little more for my county's phase of the math and physics olympiads, just to get a disappointing 4.5/30 in physics and 4/28 in maths (some of the worst results compared to my participating classmates), earning not even a mention. This was very frustrating, and it was also my first invitation to give up on olympiads.

In the midst of reflecting on my poor performances, I came to a major realization - I wasn't actually treating olympiads seriously enough; maybe this was why I was only one of the best in my class instead of the absolute best: I wasn't working outside of class. This sparked a deep motivation within me, one that told me I would become the best - not just in my class or my city, but the best in my entire country at something. I started with a fairly prestigious regional math competition, where, even though I went head-to-head with silver and gold medalists from the national phase of the math olympiad, I somehow won a gold medal and first place.

This result felt unreal and fueled me through hard times, helping me qualify for the first time for a national olympiad (ONM - National Mathematics Olympiad), and also to obtain 4th place at the National Science Creativity Olympiad alongside my close classmate and friend.

[Gallery grid goes here - coming soon!]