Failed the board exam: how Carla got up again

The results of the nursing board exam came out on a Thursday night. Carla was in her room in Iloilo, refreshing the list on her phone, while her family watched TV in the sala and pretended not to wait.

She searched her surname three times. Then she searched her first name. Then she scrolled the whole list from the top, letter by letter, as if the search box might have missed her.

She searched her surname three times.

Her batchmates' group chat lit up: congratulations, crying emojis, photos of tarpaulins already being printed. Her mother knocked softly. "Anak?" Carla said she needed a minute. She didn't come out until the next afternoon.

Her parents had sold a small piece of land in the province to pay for review school. Her Tita had already told the whole family that Carla would be the nurse who takes them all abroad. Carla thought about all of it at once, over and over.

For a lot of Filipino graduates, the board exam carries more than a license. It carries the money your family spent, the hopes of relatives, and the plans everyone made around your future.

So when Carla failed, she felt she had failed everyone. She muted the group chat and stopped posting. When relatives visited, she stayed in her room. At church she sat near the door so she could leave before anyone asked.

The thoughts were loud. Maybe I am not meant to be a nurse. Maybe I wasted their money. Maybe everyone is talking about me. She lay awake doing the math on how much review school had cost.

Her body felt it too. She slept late, barely ate, and felt tired even after doing nothing. Weeks passed, and her review books stayed in the box by the door.

The first step came from her father. One evening he sat at the foot of her bed and said, "Anak, pinag-aral ka namin kasi mahal ka namin. Mahal ka pa rin namin ngayon." She cried for a long time. It was the first time she had let herself.

Anak, pinag-aral ka namin kasi mahal ka namin.

The second was telling the truth to one friend. She messaged Patricia, a batchmate who had failed the year before and passed on her second try. "Paano mo kinaya?" Patricia called her right away and talked for an hour. Hearing someone say "I've been there" made the shame smaller.

Then she looked at the exam honestly. She checked her ratings and saw which subjects had pulled her down. The giant, vague failure became two weak areas she could work on.

She gave herself time before starting again: two weeks of rest, sleep, and afternoon walks along the river. Then she made a small schedule, three hours of review a day with Sundays off. She studied with Patricia twice a week by video call.

She started praying again, honestly this time. Some nights the whole prayer was, "Lord, I'm scared to try again." Her mother sometimes sat with her and prayed too. She taped 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 to her desk.

Carla retook the exam the next time it was offered, and she passed. What she remembers most is the night she decided to start again, before she knew how it would end.

If your name wasn't on the list, give yourself time to feel it. Disappointment, shame and grief are normal after something you worked so hard for. For most people, they get quieter with time.

When you are ready, take one small step. Tell one person the truth. Look at your ratings to see what to work on. Write a schedule that leaves room for rest. Plenty of people pass on a second or third try.

If weeks go by and you still can't sleep, eat or get out of bed, or you feel hopeless, talk to a doctor or counselor. That is a normal next step, and help works.

And if you want a place to start today, HopeBegins is free. Pick how you feel and get one small thing to try today, calming tools, someone to pray for you, and an e-coach you can message on Messenger. If you are unsure what comes next, I feel lost has a few small steps for days like this.