Dear Diary,
Last week, the clocks moved forward by one hour in this part of the world, marking the start of daylight saving time in New Zealand. That means we are officially five hours ahead again of my home country, the Philippines.
As I look across at the certificates of my four nursing registrations here in my Auckland Central apartment, I am reminded of a time 17 years ago when I thought I would never be able to get to where I am today.
“I’m sorry, but your name is not on the list.”
I FAILED.
The one word I had been dreading to hear since childhood had finally come.
And the worst part? How could someone who came from the top science class in her high school and was a Dean’s Lister accept failure?
At that time, I didn’t know how to react. It felt like my whole world had suddenly turned black and white, and my entire body had gone numb.
It took me a few days to process what had happened. But through the encouragement of my family, I decided to try again and fight for that license.
So my twin and I went to Manila. Before we left, we went to see the nuns and asked for their prayers. We decided to get away from the unnecessary noise surrounding my failure and enrolled in one of the top nursing review centers in Manila.
For the next five months, we studied day in and day out for that license.
It was really hard to accept failure, especially in the Philippines, where people scrutinize board exam results. But through the support of our family and our review center—and especially one of our tutors, who constantly reminded us, “Retakers, laban!”—we were able to bounce back, one step at a time.
The review season was tough. We were in Manila during the height of the nursing boom, and the pressure was real.
But we were lucky. We enrolled in a very supportive review center that pushed us to study harder and work harder.
Since we had more time to study, there were days when we didn’t have review classes. But instead of treating those days as breaks, we studied hard at home.
Our reviewers would always remind us:
“Ang boards, hindi ’yan patalinuhan kundi pasipagan.”
The nursing boards were highly competitive at the time. The June 2009 NLE (Nurse Licensure Exam) had a passing rate of only 41.87% so we knew we had to give everything we had.
I remember that it was one of the most challenging seasons of my life—and my twin’s, too.
Some days, we would cry because of the people judging us because of our results. But we never stopped believing that we would eventually pass.
We weren’t only studying. We were also going to church and praying hard.
On Thursdays, we would go to St. Jude Church to study. We would see the banners celebrating topnotchers from universities around the area, and we would imagine our own names being displayed on something like that someday.
After five months of intense preparation, the time finally came.
My twin even had a mishap on exam day. She couldn’t find her name on the list of examinees, but through the help of the Professional Regulation Commission (PRC), she was eventually able to take the exam at the PRC office.
During the exam, I prayed during and after every subtest. I lifted everything to God.
I prayed that if I was meant to be a nurse, then I would pass that NLE season.
The first day of the boards was so tough.
I went home feeling defeated because I thought I might fail again.
So I went home, watched movies, tried to clear my head, and came back for Day 2.
Day 2 of the NLE felt easier for me.
After the exam, we went back to St. Jude.
We gave all our pencils and pens to a little boy who was with his mother selling food near the church.
The kid was so happy.
And then came the waiting game.
We took the exam in November 2009, and then we celebrated Christmas and New Year with our family back in Mindoro.
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| Celebrated Christmas in Mindoro while waiting for the NLE results |
By January, my twin and I went back to Manila to study for another exam called IELTS (Internatipnal English Language Testing System) exam.
And then, sometime during that month, the NLE results were released.
Since we didn’t have access to the internet at our dorm, we had no way of checking the results ourselves.
Then my aunt sent us a text.
She was congratulating my twin, my cousin, and me for passing the boards.
I still remember how it felt.
We cried so hard.
We just passed one of the most brutal Nurse Licensure Exams ever with a passing rate of 39.73%. It was so hard to believe that we were among the 37,527 out of 94,462 examinees who passed.
Not just because we passed, but because we remembered everything we had gone through to get there.
And then the board ratings were released.
It turned out that we had both aced the exam—and surprisingly, my results were even higher on the first day, the day I walked out convinced I had found the exam impossibly hard, than on the second day.
We had dreamed of becoming topnotchers, but passing—and acing the exam after failing once—was more than enough.
I received a board rating of 80.40, while my twin sister received 83.20.
It was unbelievable.
But more than anything, it was a testament to the hard work we had put in during those five months.
A month later, our school hosted a testimonial dinner for our batch because we had helped bring the school back to the number one spot in Batangas in terms of passing percentage.
And my father was invited to give a speech.
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| Photo from the archives courtesy of Celine Bernadette Francisco |
Looking back, that moment feels almost surreal.
The girl who had once heard, “Your name is not on the list,” was now sitting at a testimonial dinner celebrating her success.
Seventeen years later, I’m sitting here in Auckland, looking at the certificates of my four nursing registrations.
And sometimes, I still have to remind myself that they all belong to the same girl who once thought she had failed at becoming a nurse.
Maybe that is the lesson I needed all along.
Failure doesn’t always mean the end of the story.
Sometimes, it is simply the chapter that makes the rest of the story possible.
We realized that no matter how many times we fail or experience setbacks in life and in our careers, we can always come back stronger.
And sometimes, the girl who cried because her name wasn’t on the list…
just needs a little more time before
she sees where that failure was going to take her.
Love,
Maica 🩺💜














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