That Time I Had To Staple My Pants Together

You’ve probably heard me talk about how I spent a long time in school. Like I went to university for 11 years! Yeah, 11 years after high school. I know, I know, that sounds crazy, but I’ve always loved learning.

My mom loves to tell the story of how my plan at some point was to stay in school forever. Luckily for my parents I did eventually graduate, or I’d still be sleeping in their basement.

But on my long journey to graduating I definitely had some hiccups, which taught me a lot about how to roll with the punches.

Part of my graduate school training was to work on a large research project. I spent years working on this project. Designing the project, collecting data, analyzing data, writing reports. Then at the very end of my schooling before I could officially become Dr. Byers I had to take a big exam called a dissertation defense.  

It’s not your typical exam, no multiple choice required thank goodness (multiple choice is my nemesis, I always want to make my own answer).  

For this exam, I had to get up in front of a room of professors who are experts in psychology while they grilled me with questions for hours. Okay that might be a bit of an exaggeration, although that’s totally how it felt at the time.  

Anyway, so imaging I’m standing in front of a group of very smart people, being asked questions about something I’ve poured my heart and soul into for five years, oh and I forgot to mention these exams are open so anyone from the university can come watch. My exam room was packed. 

My story actually starts a few hours before I got to the exam. Like I said I’d spent years working on this project, and weeks studying for the exam. I’d even made a giant three inch binder of color-coded notes to questions I might get asked (I like to super-over prepare as you can guess).  

So I’m feeling nervous that morning. Didn’t really eat much because my stomach was doing backflips. But I put on the one suit I owned hoping it would help me feel more confident, grabbed my giant binder, and set off for the exam. 

I get to the university, step out of the car, and the hem on my pants snags. Now my pants are two inches too long and they are dragging on the ground. I’m not the most graceful person in the world and I don’t want to trip on my face in my exam, so I’m trying to figure out what the heck I’m going to do about these pants!  

Thankfully I’m pretty good at problem solving. I didn’t have a needle and thread, but I did have a stapler. Yep, before the biggest exam of my life, I stapled my pants together.  

So things are back on track, I got my pants stapled, got my binder, and I walk into the exam room. Seated in the room are my supervisors and my exam committee who I know, and one extra examiner that is assigned by the university. As luck would have it, it was the one professor in my 11 years that I’d ever had a fight with!  

Okay fight is stretching things, but a few years ago I had trouble with his class and felt that he unfairly graded my final paper, and I let him know about it.  

If my jaw wasn’t attached to my face it would have dropped to the floor. The one person in the university I don’t like and who doesn’t like me is my final examiner.  

I walked to the front of the room and one of my supervisors commented that I was looking a bit pale and she offered me some strawberries. Thanks for telling me I look like a ghost right before this huge exam hey? 

But then I remembered. I have been working my tail off for four years on this project. I know all my results backwards and forwards. I have a three-inch binder of detailed notes on every possible question I thought I might get asked for goodness sake. I was ready. I was prepared. I could do this! 

So I repeated the personal mantra I’ve used since I was a teenager in my mind, and asked the universe to send me Strength and Courage. Then I started my exam. 

Did I get every question right? Nope I did not. But I got enough right that two hours later those experts were shaking my hand and saying congratulations Doctor.  

I have always been someone who over-prepares. I like to know exactly what’s coming and I hate surprises so I try my best to avoid them.  

But sometimes life throws you a curve ball. Your pants rip on your way to a big presentation. Or that one person you hate shows up unexpectedly and throws you off your game.  

We can’t prevent these things from happening, but we can choose how we react. I could have ran to the washroom to cry and feel sorry for myself. But I didn’t. I pulled up my big girl pants, staples and all, and got it done.  

Courage isn’t something we are born with. Our brains learn courage through action. The small things we do every day that challenge us build courage. The small obstacles we have to overcome. 

Next time it seems like the universe is working against you, and everything seems to be going wrong, take a step back. Take a big breath, and remind yourself that you can do this. It might be hard, but once you take that first step forward you will feel braver, stronger, and more courageous.