Healing Through the Shadows of Testing: A Mother’s Journey of Self-Recovery
A Generation’s Anxiety: When Tests Define Your Worth
This is a story I’ve held close to my heart for many years—a story about tests, but really, about so much more. It’s about the anxiety of an entire era, the isolation of youth, a mother’s awakening, and the quiet possibility of healing.
My Teenage Years: Sleepless Nights and Silent Pressure
Throughout high school in 1980s China, I lived in a constant state of exam-induced insomnia. I didn’t understand why—I just blamed myself, thinking I wasn’t working hard enough. The national mood back then was one of relentless striving. Everyone seemed to be pushing themselves to the limit, and anything less felt like failure. In that high-pressure environment, my sleep issues worsened. By the time college entrance exams approached, I was emotionally unraveling, but as a teenager, I had no awareness of what I was experiencing—and no one around me did either.
Years later, I realized I had developed what would now be recognized as test-related PTSD. The mere mention of “exams”—especially “college entrance exams”—would trigger a wave of anxiety: a racing heart, panic, and a feeling of helplessness.
The Nightmare Followed Me Across Continents
This trauma didn’t dissolve with time, nor did it fade when I moved abroad. Even as I studied in the UK and the U.S., exams remained a psychological roadblock I couldn’t overcome. On paper, I had impressive academic credentials, but deep down, I knew I had never truly reached my full potential. I tried to accept it as my reality, but inside, there was always a quiet ache—like a bird with broken wings, mourning its unfulfilled flight.
Motherhood and the Will to Break the Cycle
When I became a mother, my instinct to protect my children became all-consuming. Both of my kids were what some would call “late bloomers,” but I never pushed them to compete academically. We never discussed rankings or scores at home. Throughout elementary school, they had little concept of what an “exam” even was. In a way, my parenting style became an attempt to heal my own wounded childhood.
My Daughter’s AP Exams: A Moment of Breakthrough
Then came my daughter’s sophomore year of high school and her first set of AP exams. To my dismay, she began to struggle with insomnia, mirroring what I had gone through at her age. I told her, “Your AP scores don’t matter. Just go through the experience—you’ll see that tests don’t define your future.”
The night before her first exam, she asked to sleep next to me. That moment pierced my heart—it was exactly what I had longed to ask my own mother years ago.
I feared she would fall into the same spiral I had, ending up with test-induced panic and trauma. But something remarkable happened: she aced all three AP exams with perfect scores of 5. As she exhaled in relief, I told her gently, “See? It’s just a test.” From that point on, she never lost sleep over exams again.
I watched her grow stronger and more confident. By the time she and her brother graduated high school, they each had a GPA of 4.5 and SAT scores of 1500. It felt like two radiant beams of light guiding me out of my own dark past.
Facing My Own Test—And My Fears
As I witnessed my children blossom, something shifted inside me too. Two years ago, I made a bold decision: to confront my trauma head-on by taking the California insurance license exam. It was the final challenge in my long battle with test-related fear.
Three weeks after registering, I qualified to take the exam. I scheduled it as a remote proctored test, just to feel safer—and yes, I even prepared sleeping pills in case the anxiety returned.
On exam day, I passed with a high score. And suddenly, that dark cloud I’d carried for decades seemed to vanish. It wasn’t because I was brilliant—it was because I had made it through, with my children’s quiet support lighting the way. It was the deepest healing I’d ever known.
What Healing Really Means: Letting Go with Love
Today, I no longer fear challenges. In fact, I face them with more energy than ever—sometimes even more than my kids. I often tell them, “I’ll always support you, but I’ll never pressure you. This is your life. Learn who you are, know your strengths and weaknesses, and play to your gifts.”
And I tell myself the same thing.
True healing, I’ve learned, isn’t just about rewiring your thoughts. It’s about the flow of love—about breaking free across generations, releasing what once held us back.
This is my story. Maybe, in some way, it’s part of yours too.
