When I was a little kid, I had an uncommon dream. Like most kids round my way, I too wanted to play for Newcastle but I harboured a secret wish that was not like the other kids’.
Since I can remember, I have wanted to study at Oxford University. When I was young, no one in my family had ever had the chance to study at university as circumstance (money, mainly) would not allow for it. But I can remember being tiny, and my Dad instilling a love of books in me, telling me that they all came from Oxford.
Years and many series of Morse later, my heart was set, only to be shattered again when I didn’t make the cut.
I was close, so close, down to two, but in the end being so close made it worse. Not having had any other plans I was now faced with the prospect of ‘What Now?’
What do you do when you don’t reach your life goal?
Well, eternally enamoured by Oxford itself and with a desire to leave home stronger than ever I went to Oxford Brookes University, the 1992 former polytechnic up the road.
There I met friends who remain to this day, went on adventures, and got to sneak in to dos ‘down the hill’ anyway.
Eventually, I broke down as many undiagnosed autistic kids do when they set out into the world for the first time. I pieced myself back together and then met the love of my life. I went back to Brookes a few years later to do my PGCE (Oxford still weren’t convinced with me at this point either!)
Brookes is such an important part of my life and the city that I love and now I get to see it out of my classroom window every day.
So when I thought I was finally over dreaming about the spires, when I’d finally laid it to rest, who should come knocking?
Oxford. An opportunity I was so suited for it seemed like the third time really would be the charm. But no, I told myself. It’s not the right time, it’s too overwhelming, I don’t need it anymore. It was true, I didn’t need it anymore but there was a part of me so scared of trying and failing (again) that I almost convinced myself that I would just be applying for the name, the odd rituals, the getting to wear a cape.
The thought wouldn’t leave me alone though, and on reflection it was clear that the research was so exciting that I couldn’t say no. That, and maybe I’d even get to go to the fancy library and wear a cape.
I set to work writing a proposal and making a crystal grid on my altar that I tended almost daily as the process was underway. Under the grid I had written down in detail what I was calling in and on top I had crystals for strength, good fortune and fulfilling your dreams. I had my friends and family supporting me and I kept the kids in the loop throughout the process. At least, I thought, I could show them the value of resilience, failing, failing better. Making a marvellous mistake.
Then, after months of applying, interviewing, waiting, after twenty years of trying, I got in. At last (much Etta James was played that evening)
So what do you when you reach your life goal?
Well, I guess you put on the cape and crack on.
This post is brought to you because my dear friend and mentor Simon has been encouraging me past the writer’s block which has followed me round the past few months whilst we deal with some big changes. I’m back! Thank you Simon.
What an inspiring blog. Thank you for sharing your experience.
Well done! Xx