After failing two driving tests and my driving instructor berating me for spoiling his 100% pass rate record, I decided to ditch him and take a break for a little bit while my confidence recovered.
A few months later I was ready to get back on the horse and Laura’s dad (a driving instructor) said he’d take me out in the patch he covered to get me test ready; lessons and a test in a different town would help.
Every time I thought I’d done something wrong, misdemeanours I’d know my previous instructor would pick up on, I’d say out loud, to show Mike I knew I’d messed up. Yet every time he gently told me that I was too hard on myself, that it was OK, and that I hadn’t messed up. It was such a different style of teaching, one much more suited to me; patient, gentle and supportive. It helped my confidence no end, and after a few months I was the proud owner of a PASS certificate, even though I was sure I had failed.
I was so relieved yet shocked that I’d actually passed that I made Mike drive home from the test centre. “Don’t you want to drive?” he asked. “No. I can’t face it. I’m too excited but exhausted. And I’m not quite sure I can believe it.” I was almost too scared to drive. Mike didn’t just help me pass my driving test that day; he helped me believe in myself.