Failing to get the exam results you want could be the best thing that happens to you — just look at me

It has been decades since my exam results day , yet even now, when those words are uttered I am back at college again draped in false bravado but secretly terrified. I can see my acne, smell Lynx Africa from every orifice, feel the cut of my Chipie chinos and I am convinced that failure would be the worst thing that could ever happen, that there would be no point in continuing. I would have let myself and my family down so deeply that the shame would be too much to bear. I believed then that being 17 was for ever.

I never spoke about these memories, even when I was invited to schools to address young adults. Instead I would do the usual: a self-aggrandising snore-fest of how great the next few years would be and a “don’t forget to have fun” with a PS — work really hard because getting a first-class degree is really important if you want to do law, etc, etc.

I trotted this script out to young people and parents who had invested everything in getting their children to do well by successfully jumping them through the obligatory academic hoops. By using this language I ended up playing an unfortunate part in spreading the toxic myth that a CV full of starry A-levels is the automatic gateway to a future of eternal joy.

I was doing my usual schmaltzy pep talk recently when I came to those two words “results day” and I stopped.

I flashed back to myself as an unhappy, spotty teenager of limited academic success and wondered what I wished someone had said to me at that moment. I could think of only one simple message: none of it matters. Not one tiny bit.

I reminded that room (and myself) of some of the extraordinary men and women who have been leaders in politics, commerce and law who haven’t got an A-level, GCSE or a 10-metre swimming certificate to rub together. There are the obvious ones, of course, such as Richard Branson , self-proclaimed “the dumbest person at school” until he dropped out.

But how many young people know that Jo Fairley, the co-founder of Green & Black chocolate, the youngest-ever UK magazine editor and health entrepreneur, left school at 16 with the modest ambition of becoming a secretary? Former Prime Minister John Major left school at 16 with a mere three O-levels, and even Einstein was expelled for being “a rebel and a dunce”.

I confessed to that audience that I hadn’t the foggiest what I got in my own exams. Whatever they were, they fell short of me getting into Oxford, which I was convinced was the end of my world. It wasn’t, of course. It was just the start. I told the truth at that moment because I am convinced that the more pressure we place on the single moment of exam results, the more we detract from nurturing the intellectual and emotional range that turns young people into successful adults and good citizens.

More than exam results, what matters most is their character, their capacity to recognise when their feelings of hurt, rejection and failure are getting in the way, to acknowledge them and move on.

I am, of course, genuinely pleased for those who have done well. It is fantastic to have worked hard and to have seen the results. But education is also about things that cannot be graded; most importantly, about how young people can weave their talents, identity and personality into the baffling and ever-evolving world around them.

Whether it’s a place at the university of your dreams or a daunting period of confusion that lies ahead of you, the most important thing is your capacity to be resilient and determined. If, like me, you didn’t get what you were hoping for, it might just be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

Now Strictly really is the cheesiest show

It’s that time of year again when the names of the Strictly celebs are being released. The secrecy surrounding who’s in the line-up this time is so tight that each of the contestants are given codenames before the announcement.

In my year there was a Shakespearean theme: my pseudonym was Brutus, as I recall.

I thought it was most appropriate and turned out to be rather prescient (a butch character who ended up surviving almost to the end of the play).

This year the cast have all been given codenames relating to cheese — an odd choice. Being a big fan of Steps (who isn’t? They sold more than 20 millions records) I am especially excited to see Faye Tozer in the line-up but I can’t imagine what they’ve been calling her at the glittery MI6-style Strictly HQ.

I reckon she’s a Roquefort: classy, a little bit exotic and liked by discerning types.

My money — so far — is on Faye.

*It was my grandpa Harry’s 90th birthday this week. He worked way into his 70s to help me through my studies (and more). The fact that I have this platform to thank him is in significant part because he was there for me. Happy birthday, Pappa.