Sixteen years ago today, I was sat in a school hall with a brown envelope in my hands, absolutely convinced my entire life depended on what was inside. Spoiler: it didn’t.

Back then, GCSE results day felt like the end of the world. Like one wrong grade would somehow mean no future, no hope, nothing. (Teenage brain logic, eh?) But looking back now, it was just a tiny blip in the story.

16-Year-Old Me (2009)

• Thought GCSEs were life-or-death.
• Living for MSN statuses and inside jokes.
• Parasocial crushes galore 🙃
• In survival mode more often than not.
• Dreams felt impossibly far away.

32-Year-Old Me (2025)

• GCSEs? Barely even a footnote now.
• Writing books, building entire fictional universes, and unleashing Daisy on the world.
• Engaged to my real-life Superman (hi Myron 💍).
• Planning a wedding, a home, and a honeymoon in Disneyland Paris ✨
• Using my autistic voice to advocate and make a difference.
• Not just surviving anymore — actually thriving.

Sixteen years ago, I thought my worth was tied to a few letters on a piece of paper. Sixteen years later, I know better. I matter more than any exam result ever could.

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🌟 Daisy’s Corner:
“Oh babes, GCSE results? Please. Nobody’s gravestone says ‘She got a C in Maths.’ You’ve gone from brown envelope panic to planning a honeymoon in flipping Disneyland. Icon behaviour. Past You cried over algebra, Present You cries over JLS tickets. Glow-up COMPLETE.”

👉 Anyone else remember results day panic? What was in your envelope — and does it matter now?