Apertado (Tight): The Day I Didn’t Pass

vanessamacamo
18 hours ago
3 min read

Today, my heart feels apertado (tight).

Not the kind of tightness that goes away with distraction, but the kind that sits in your chest when disappointment meets exhaustion and hope has nowhere to land. It feels physical. Heavy. Like my heart is holding too much at once, hope, effort, fear, silence.

I didn’t pass.

I was supposed to be at the university session competition from 8:00 to 10:00 a.m. I was the second person scheduled to present. And on the exact day I needed everything to go smoothly, the bus was late. Everything became messy. I only arrived around 9:00. By then, I was already nervous, already carrying stress before I even began.

Still, I did my best.

I presented. I showed up. I tried to stay grounded, even though my body was shaking with pressure, delay, and anxiety. After the exam, I did what I always do: I reflected. I tried to understand what I did well and what I could have done better. But at the end of the day, reflection does not erase one simple truth: when you work this hard, you want to pass.

I questioned myself:

Was my English not good enough? That shouldn’t be the reason.

Was my topic not interesting? No, that doesn’t feel true either.

For a moment, I let myself believe that this result said something about my worth.

But it doesn’t.

It says something about a moment. About timing. About a system. About pressure. About one snapshot of a much bigger journey.

I will receive feedback and learn from it. But today, before feedback, there is disappointment.

I emailed my advisor, and she replied, “I’m so glad you did it anyway!!!” She is right. Applying matters.

Trying matters.

But today, that reminder doesn’t remove the ache. I'm feeling so sad. Although I recognize the value of those who participate.

When I told my daughter how disappointed I felt, she came to me and hugged me. She said, “Don’t focus on the negative. I’m proud of you. You tried. I saw you practicing. Maybe you were nervous because you lost the bus.”

When I told my son, he said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

The hardest part was writing to my family in Mozambique to let them know I hadn't passed. And in my family, we carry these moments together, the test, the waiting, the hope, and now the disappointment. I wish I could share a different result with them. Unfortunately, I didn’t pass this time, and my family feels it with me.

Because I really wanted the $3,000.

I wanted to help pay for my son’s school. I wanted to use it as incentives for research interviews related to the project I want to implement. I wanted it for so many practical, necessary, meaningful reasons. But most of all, I wanted them to understand that my project is important.

So yes, today I am sad. Today my heart is apertado (tight).

Not because I didn’t try, but because trying meant something.

Because wanting it was tied to my family, my research, and my future.

Because effort creates hope, and hope makes loss hurt.

This is not the end of my story. But it is part of it.And today, I let myself feel it. But it is hurting so badly, I really wanted to pass...

I feel with tears in my eyes, I'm forcing my self to work, but I don't want to...

It feels so bad...