There have been many tough moments in my life, but nothing as hard as waiting for my A-level results. My schooling wasn’t great – my predicted grades reflected that – and I remember being completely terrified that I wouldn’t get into university. For the first time, I felt that it wasn’t me deciding between different paths, but that my future was, instead, in the hands of someone working for an exam board.
So naturally my heart goes out to those caught up in the government’s A-level fiasco this week. Every year when results season comes around, I’m thrown back to that time. The sleepless nights, the stomach aches, the panic attacks, all of it. I remember being so convinced that if I didn’t get the right grades, I wouldn’t be anything. Which is obviously not true, but you couldn’t have told me that then.
More often than I’d like, I go back to being that student who felt she couldn’t become what she wanted to be, who wouldn’t be able to write stories or write this column. So this one goes out to the students who got “good” grades or didn’t. You might think this period will define you … but it won’t.
