29/04/2026
Exam season is looming, and much of my time at this time of year is sitting with teens who feel immense pressure to perform. Parents will often wonder how they can support their youngsters.
I wrote this last year, when I had three children sitting GCSEs/A levels at the same time. I hope it helps.
Celebrate the Night Before
In recent years, a curious tradition has emerged among parents — the idea of paying for exam results. £100 for a grade 9, £90 for an 8, and so on. It’s a lovely way to show pride, of course, but it also risks sending the message that we only celebrate achievement — not effort.
The truth is, grades can be influenced by so many unpredictable things: an unlucky question, a moment’s panic, a poor night’s sleep. Yet none of those factors can measure the months — even years — of commitment, focus, and quiet resilience that led to this point.
That’s why, in our house, we celebrate the night before results day.
The night before is calm and full of potential. It’s the perfect moment to acknowledge the hard work you’ve seen, the determination that’s been tested, and the growth that’s already happened. It’s the time to say: you’ve done enough; we’re proud already.
Because when we only celebrate outcomes, we risk teaching our children that their worth depends on external approval — what psychologists call conditions of worth. Over time, that can shift their locus of evaluation outward, making them look to others for a sense of achievement or value. But when we take the time to notice and validate their effort, courage, and persistence, we help them build an internal locus of evaluation — that inner compass that says, I know I’ve worked hard; I know I’ve grown; I know I’m enough.
Of course, you can financially reward your child if that’s your choice — celebration is a beautiful thing. But consider rewarding the effort overall, not just the result. Even better if you don’t tell them in advance — that way, their motivation stays rooted in their own sense of pride and purpose, rather than external reward. It’s a simple but powerful way to strengthen that internal locus of evaluation. And a surprise treat is always lovely to receive.
And that inner strength is what fuels resilience. Because resilience is a muscle — it grows every time they face uncertainty, manage disappointment, or pick themselves up and try again. Each challenge, whether it ends in success or setback, adds to that quiet strength.
We also like to take a moment to laugh — to reflect on the absurdity and hilarity of that stressful revision period. The frantic search for a missing pen five minutes before an exam. The overcomplicated “lucky breakfast” ritual. The colour-coded notes that ended up being more art project than study aid. The post it notes around the house meaning we are all now fluent in Shakespeare. These moments, when revisited with humour and humility, remind us that pressure and perfection aren’t the whole story. They show our children that we’re human too — that we can make mistakes, overthink, and still smile about it afterwards. That laughter models resilience just as much as hard work does.
Of course, we’ll celebrate the next day too if all goes well — there’s joy in recognising achievement. But our children also know that if the results aren’t what they hoped for, they are still safe with us. There will still be pride, love, and plans for the road ahead. They know that this is just a chapter, not the whole story, and that we will always find a way forward together.
Because life isn’t a straight line from success to success. Things don’t always go right the first time, or even the second. But each experience — good or bad — builds strength, confidence, and self-awareness.
So this year, acknowledge each exam as together you tick those milestones off.
And on the run up to results day before the envelope is opened or the email refreshed, take a moment to celebrate your child’s journey. Recognise their perseverance, their courage, and the lessons learned along the way. Tell them how proud you are — not for what tomorrow might bring, but for everything they’ve already become.
After all, the destination matters — but the journey is what truly shapes who we are.
