Fraudulent speeches

In year 13 I was asked to do a speech on the importance of sixth form and year 12 education to prospective applicants viewing the sixth form. Truth be told, I felt like such a fraud.

The first two months of year twelve, I cried daily. I went on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition, minutes prior I’d had an utter meltdown over the horror of sixth form friendships. I chose four subjects to keep myself busy, and art where I would have my own room to retreat to. I begged my parents to be home schooled and researched what the local council would allow. My mother rang round local schools unbeknownst to me, curious if I could move if I was that desperate. I changed a level options three times and moved classes. There was a lot of tears. To ask this person to give a speech buoyed with positivity, felt like a facade of what it really was and how I’d actually found it. I still gave the speech, brimming with praise for an institution I loved but at times had in fact resented.

The ridiculous part was that things did get better, I just need to have a bit of faith and put myself out there. I also needed to accept perfection was not really what anyone was after and was definitely not the goal. The rest of those two years caused more tears, six dislocated knees, one broken laptop, a messed up sleep schedule, one knee operation and two crutches. But at the time when the tears kept coming, remember you were doing the best with what you had and just trying to get through the day.