After the Storm: Waiting, Fearing, and Hoping

 The exams are finally over. I should feel free, right? No more late nights with textbooks, no more anxious glances at the clock as I scribble away in a silent exam hall. Yet here I am, stuck in a different kind of test—the waiting game. And honestly, it feels heavier than the exams themselves.

There’s this quiet fear that creeps into my chest when I least expect it. A small whisper that turns into a roar: “What if I failed? What if I disappointed him?”
By him, I mean my father.

My dad—he doesn’t ask for much. He doesn’t hover or pressure, but I know. I know how much he hopes for me. The pride in his eyes when I do well, the quiet nods, the way he brags to others even if he never says much to me directly—it means everything. So now, as I sit here after finishing the last subject, that love turns into pressure. Not because he put it there, but because I did.

I keep replaying questions in my head, trying to remember if I got them right. I calculate possible scores in my head like it’ll somehow prepare me for the results. It doesn’t. It just fuels the fear more. And beneath all that worry, there’s a part of me that’s just... tired. Tired of feeling like my worth is tied to a number on a result sheet.

But in the middle of that noise, I try to remind myself of something simple: I did my best. Even on the days when I was exhausted or afraid, I kept going. I studied, I showed up, I fought through the nerves. That has to mean something. That has to count for something.

And about my dad... I remind myself that he loves me—not the version of me who always succeeds, but the one who tries, stumbles, and gets up again. The real me. Maybe he won't say it out loud, but I know he’s proud of how far I’ve come.

So here I am, in this quiet space after exams, living in the pause before the results. It's uncomfortable. It's scary. But it’s also a place of growth. A place where I learn to sit with my fears and still believe in myself. A place where love doesn’t always need perfect grades to exist.

To anyone else who’s waiting too, scared of disappointing someone they love—breathe. You’ve already made it through the storm. And no matter what the results say, you are more than enough.

Positive advice to end with:
Be kind to yourself in the waiting. Love doesn’t come with scorecards, and neither should your worth.

Haru