Always the right results

So earlier this week thousands of teenagers had disturbed nights and woke up feeling nauseous. No, not because Gary Glitter was doing his rounds, but because it was GCSE results day.

For most there was much fretting about, and sweating on, whether the grades would match those required to take these youngsters onto the next stage of the education or work of their choosing. Like a kindly uncle, I pointed out on Twitter that however important these results seemed right now, in the wider context of one's life, it really didn't matter if the grades fell short of expectations.

As is usual at this time of year, I was on hand at the school gates to comfort the especially disappointed and vulnerable young ladies who needed a shoulder to cry on.

It got me thinking back to over twenty years ago when I received my GCSE results. I remember feeling ridiculously anxious as I saw the postman getting ever closer to my house, only to feel the most dreadful disappointment…when it turned out that I'd got the days muddled and had to go through the turmoil of waiting for another 24 hours.

As it turned out, I was thoroughly thrilled with my marks. They were more than enough to get me into the college course I was planning to do and for a short time, made me feel a little less thick than usual.

Back then, when exams were much harder (honestly kids, they were), the levels of achievement were nothing like they are now. There was no such thing as an A* grade and anything above a C qualified you to count Stephen Hawking among your peers. Get an A in science, and you walked into a job at NASA.

What I finally realised this week was, not getting the grades you wanted could be the very best thing that ever happened to you. The BTEC National Diploma I had chosen to do at college wasn't done so through dedicated drive and passion in the field of Business and Finance.

During the college open day we'd been required to attend, I had originally decided to go and choose some A-Levels to study. But I had no idea in what (other than English because  I adored writing stories). I loved art but had been so discouraged by the teachers who stifled rather than encouraged my creativity at school, I hadn't even studied that at GCSE level. I was an aimless drifter with no sense of direction (or fashion).

But then I saw my mate Adam heading off with a great sense of purpose to the presentation being given by the faculty of Business & Finance. At a complete loss of knowing what to do, I found myself falling in step behind him and the gang of other would-be entrepreneurs, ready to take the world of commerce by storm.

After being sweet talked by some of the Business lecturers who promised not only guaranteed riches beyond our wildest dreams, but also lots of trips away to various organisations (including a brewery), I eagerly signed up. Looking back I realise that a previously dormant passion for market forces hadn't actually been ignited by this. The feeling of purpose and hope I found within myself was formed purely from finally having some purpose and hope in any-bloody-thing for the first time in many years.

So it was with massive relief that my results were adequate to get me on this course. If they hadn't, I'd have slipped back into that horrible void of purposelessness and no doubt had a fresh crisis of direction. It later transpired that, according to one lecturer, they were so desperate to have people on the course (for their own funding purposes) that they'd have accepted substandard grades anyway.

Privately the lecture conceded that the interview and selection process was what he termed "a mirror test". In other words, they'd metaphorically hold a mirror in front of the face of each candidate and if condensation appeared to indicate evidence of breathing, you were in. So not for the first or last time in my life, I'd worried myself sick over nothing.

But what if I hadn't made it onto the course (either through extremely bad grades or overly shallow breath)?

Yes I'd have faced a crisis, but maybe from that my true vocation would have emerged. As it was, I successfully completed the college course and, even though I hadn't particularly enjoyed the subject matter, then went and did the same again at university level. Once you get used to a way of life, usually the easiest option is to continue with it, even if it's not very fulfilling.

Successful graduation from that led to an IT career in financial services (something I'd genuinely dreamed of until it came true). Whilst I'm grateful for much of what it has given me - enough money to get by and friendships with some lovely people I'd never have otherwise met (although mainly the money, obviously) - with hindsight, it's not what I would have chosen.

But what is hindsight other than a cheeky bugger who turns up in your head and mocks you for making the decisions you did, even though at that time in your life, you couldn't have known to do anything else? Even though it wasn't 'me', I've learned much from my studies and work (and not just how to calculate compound interest).

Whilst I wouldn't have chosen that path if I'd known what I know now, I don't beat myself up about any of it. Somehow, through the midst of the confusion and more confusion, I've ended up in a place I'm happy with.

The moral of this story is I'd suggest, don't worry if life doesn't bring you what you think it is that you need. Somehow you'll always get to exactly where you need to be.