A lot has happened in the past week and a half. Well, I say a lot. In reality it’s mostly been watching literary documentaries on BBC iPlayer, drinking soya chocolate milk and sneezing almost non-stop for 3 days.
However, in a more figurative sense, a lot has, in fact happened, and you can probably guess why.
Two Thursdays ago was A Level Results Day – a day when thousands of 17 and 18-year-olds wake up at dawn after hardly any sleep (at least, in my case) in order to find out where their immediate future is taking them.
I am so glad to say that I got into my first choice university, and in less than a month I’ll be packing my bags and heading to Newcastle. It’s a bit surreal to think about to be honest, especially knowing that my friends are going all over the country as well, but I guess it will hit me at some point, probably on my birthday which is 2 weeks into my time at uni.
Results Day itself was a mixture of emotions for me. The moment itself was slightly underwhelming. I saw my results, I found out I got into uni, and that was that. I was happy but a bit dazed, and, to be honest, I felt kind of disappointed. It was still 7:30am after an awful night’s sleep, so I wasn’t exactly with it. It took me at least 10 minutes to realise what had happened and to feel proud of my achievements. After shouting about how proud I felt on social media, doubt and insecurity then set in. I felt like I should have and could have done better (bearing in mind I worked myself practically sick for these grades) and ended up seriously considering deleting the tweet I’d put up saying my grades.
Later on, I came to a much healthier conclusion about my grades, after having reasoned with myself for a while. For example, I have always known that I am much better at coursework and research projects over exams, and exams never show what I truly know, despite how much effort I might put in. I am fully aware that my knowledge in the subject which had my lowest grade in is at a much higher standard than what my grade portrayed, even though that was still a pretty good grade. Although it wasn’t necessarily what I hoped to get, I’m still trying to focus on the fact that it did what I needed it to do: get me to the next stage in my academic career.
It can be difficult sometimes to separate yourself from the toxicity of the competitive atmosphere, even if you’re painfully aware of it and want to celebrate your friends’ successes instead of fixating on your own insecurities. Everyone should be proud of what they got, even if it wasn’t what they were expecting or wanted. A Levels are bloody stressful and it’s a huge achievement to have even taken the exams.
I am looking forward to learning again, hopefully this time more on my own terms, and in a style that I prefer and know works best for me.
Here’s to what’s to come.
If you liked this post you might like: Opportunity, Judgement and Self-Growth
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