"My life is over"

I remember the end of my life.

Five years ago: Dressing gown, mug of tea, kitchen table, open laptop.

Three letters.

I was over. I had failed.

While my results (or lack of) were sinking into my brain, I received a (harshly timed) email from the professor in charge of the Oxbridge clan. I was no longer their type on paper.

It didn’t make any sense to me. I was an excellent student, excellent work ethic, and more sickening than that my friends:

I genuinely love(d) learning.

However, I nearly passed out of stress when I came face to face with Linda the head invigilator. My lack of ability to perform well in exams meant I wasn’t good enough. Rejection from a university, is a rejection to a life that you’ve imagined in your head. My imaginary future was my first love and it was breaking up with me!

Envelopes of dread.

To cheer me up on this last day of existence, I accompanied my mum to the local dump. I felt like trash. Just as a tip, maybe take your kid somewhere most inspiring that a literal rubbish tip when they’re sobbing the pacific ocean???

I had been set to receive a pretty ‘perfect’ result, and the absolute state I was in now, was the result of failing to be perfect. I had given up sleep, friendships, family, SANITY, for three letters of perfection. It wasn’t that learning even came easily to me, I had a pretty horrific high school life but I knew how to work hard and trusted this would be enough to get me out of being the school’s victim, and the school’s hero, complete with Oxbridge gown.

I believed if I just got into one of those big universities- that I would feel instant gratification that I’d been hunting for 18 years. But now, I was ready to be recycled with the old defunct dishwashers.

Okay soooo now I totally get I was being dramatic about this. But at the time, this wasmy life. And that’s the problem with A-levels and the school system of ‘higher/ education, they truly make you, your friends, your parents and the checkout lady from Tesco who your grandpa talks to every Friday believe -that these three letters define your future.

But here’s the spoiler: I’m still alive.

The fact is, I still managed to go to university. It wasn’t Oxbridge but I’ve realised that the reason I was so obsessed with attaining the shiny medals of results, was because they were just the ultimate props in the big show of success. I wanted to be the star of this elaborate education one woman show (is it still too dramatic?).

So here’s the tea:

I’ve met people that are highly educated- have a scorching set of awards and so many Duke of Edinburgh’s swaying under their armpits they may as well set up a depop account for them- but I’ve also met people who don’t have any of those accolades. News flash:

A-Level results do not reflect who you are as a person.

They don’t even reflect how smart you are.

My mum failed basically every exam she’s ever taken (sorry mum) but she’s one of the smartest people I know. dad left school at 17 and has provided for his family and is a Maths wizard. My grandparents moved out of a council estate and into their own home with no academic qualifications- these people managed to fund themselves and find their own successes despite people believing, that wasn’t meant for them because they didn't have set of letters on their CV.

I think the problem lies in the fact that the world today is obsessed with numerical value .The idea that people can be valued in a work place based on people skills, expression and creativity is being completely stifled. This kind of thinking means figures like Boris Johnson remain the standardised person in power. He can spew what he wants about the Greeks, Latin his arse out, but that doesn’t mean he actually knows anything more than you or I . Knowledge is relative, and at this time when you might doubt your brain power, it’s important to remember that knowledge comes in so many shapes and forms.

We need to empower physical skills, emotional skills, practical skills, and not only the skills that mean you can ace an exam. Because, life is a much more complex testing machine. There is no paper, no formula to study- it just happens to you. No prep time.

I remember the confidence of a student at a night club on results day, screaming in her friend’s face

“I’ve got three A’s mate, so I can do whatever I want”.

She was untouchable because the cushioning of conforming into the convention of A-level results had given her a status-throne. I wanted to feel that power, that control over my destiny.

But of course, we all do. We all want to feel like that young woman, that we can do “whatever (we) want”. But the thing is, what does success actually mean to you?

What if all the voices that had been telling us to achieve these results, were muted and erased?

What, then would be our measure of success? Perhaps, we’d have much more complex and inspirational ones.

I return to Maya Angelou, as one usually does when trying to be inspirational. Her famous saying

“people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”.

And I want to one up ma’ girl Maya and ask- what will we remember of our own lives? Surely it is not what we did, but how we felt. Surely that’s why we all get drunk: We might not remember what was ‘achieved’ but we know it felt amazing?

Five years later- I wish I’d spent less time battling with grades and more time acting like a 19 year old- and going to get pissed in my friends living room, or trying to make new friends not higher numbers. Working full-time has taught me that people with no ‘higher’ education are just as bright (if not brighter) than any other spark going. And most importantly I have learnt that there is simply not a link between education and worth.

It’s as silly really, as saying that our worth is based on our weight, or our muscle ‘gains’. It’s kind of ridiculous and totally overdramatic. So before you fetch your mini violins and sob your heart out- remember that results day, whatever that might be for you- doesn’t define your worth and it sure as heck doesn’t affect your power.

I recently saw a concert where the performer Yung Blud screamed”

“the doctor told me to cancel this show because of my arm injury- and I thought- **ck that”

Yeah, the guy was going against what the society figurehead wanted him to do, but we loved him so much more for f**king it.

Me, seconds after my results. Jokes its from Wix.