Nero was the last Roman Emperor of the Julio-Claudian dynasty; the Boston Matrix analyses a business’ product portfolio; the wife of Bath was married at the age of 12; and it was on the road to Damascus that Saint Paul underwent his spiritual conversion. A list of useless facts, yes, but also the few remnants of knowledge left from my A-Level studies in Ancient history, Business studies, English Literature and Religious Education respectively. This knowledge, hardly set to influence my future but rather my ability at that time to recall, apply and analyse such knowledge, would be pivotal to my future…or would it?

Often seen as the defining point of our education, our A-Levels mark that we’ve finally reached adulthood and are now capable of making life-altering decisions: Will you continue your academic journey into university? Will you bow out for some time to travel the world? Will you opt for immediate employment and save yourself a lifetime of debt? While many at this time, on results day, will focus on what to do if you don’t get the grades you had hoped for, I wish to proffer some advice to those who do. This seems counterintuitive – like giving money to the rich. Their futures seem bright. They’ve been given the opportunity to put their best foot forward. It’s the less fortunate, the disappointed and broken-hearted who need words of encouragement. In some way though, this too ought to comfort. The bottom line is you can achieve the best grades possible and get nowhere near where you had hoped you might be. The opposite is equally true.

Thirteen years ago, after receiving my A-Level results, I made the decision to pursue a degree in Law. I had neither the interest nor the intent of pursuing a career in this field but given its perception as a “sensible choice” and its potential for broad application, it seemed like the right thing to do. My heart yearned for English literature, as it still does now, but alas the head triumphed. My head, of all the heads, rife with confusion and indecision.

As a result of this decision and many more to come, I now stand in a job which I can proudly say is important. It matters and I would like to think that, on some small level, I make a difference to the lives of the people I work with. But the selfish part of me, which I admit dominates any selflessness I might possess, longs for that “dream job”, should such a thing exist. A career that not only utilises your greatest skills but also fills that void; that void that says “you were born to do this” and gives that sense of purpose we all crave in life.

Before this sounds like a tale of woe, much like the poor old wife of Bath, I am in no way disillusioned. The decisions I have made, whether wrongly or rightly, have led me to a place which I not only can appreciate but where I can continue to better myself. It’s just not my place. My place exists somewhere beyond the here and now and I’m certain I’ll arrive there when the time is right.

So, what I would say to you on this seemingly fateful day, just as Roxette once tried to tell herself, is “listen to your heart” (unless of course your heart leads you to degrees like The Art of Walking or Puppetry). Ignore the voices that lead to the purely “sensible choice”. A sensible choice can soon become foolish if the outcome in no way reflects you or your goals. Your dream might not yet be clear but at least if you follow your heart, and ultimately what interests you, you’re bound to be at least one step closer than me.

And to those who feel like their dreams have been shattered by today, consider me – 31 and still dreaming. Those results are no more a reflection of your ability or future than my law degree is a reflection of me. Time is still on your side.

…or we could just pack it in altogether and go to Australia. I hear it’s what all the cool kids are doing.