Every time the Bar exam results come out, I find myself so invested in seeing the raw reactions from successful bar passers whenever they see their names on the list. Just like me, the spotlight online and on traditional media finds the same faces—those who passed, those who made it, and those whose names will soon bear the title “Attorney” before them.
But somewhere beyond the praises and loud cheers are quieter stories, ones that do not come with family-made tarpaulins. The stories belong to people like Therese Valera, who did not make it this year. She said in an interview with GMA Public Affairs, “Nevertheless, I’m still grateful. Our journey wasn’t a joke. Your result never discounts the effort that you put in.”
The silent stories also include Divine Grace Pineda’s. She is a three-time bar taker and finally passed on the third try.
“On my first try, I was pregnant with my first child. I received the bad news of failing the Bar when she was just nine days old. It was so hard for me, but you really have to pick yourself up and try again,” she told GMA News.
She shared how she kept the faith and believed that God had a bigger plan. Like her, 59-year-old Eduardo Regio also had a taste of failing the Bar—not once, not twice, not even three times.
The former public servant first took the Bar in 1993 and fell short of the passing grade ten times. Finally, this year, after putting in all the work for review and lifting up his goal to God, Eduardo finally passed the Bar on his eleventh try.
Eleven attempts. Eleven moments of hope. Eleven encounters with failure.
In a culture obsessed with success, the family man could have easily dropped the dream on the third attempt. Failure has long been treated like a personal flaw instead of a human experience. We were influenced to hide it, save face, or bury it under insincere optimism. But failure, when we allow ourselves to sit with it, can be deeply life-changing. It can be a gift. It strips us of performance and leaves us face-to-face with our core, who we truly are when the world is not giving us the validation we are seeking.
Positive psychology research reminds us that failure is not the opposite of flourishing. It is often part of the pathway to it.
The first concept is self-compassion. Research by Kristin Neff shows that people who practice self-compassion recover from failure more effectively than those who rely on harsh self-criticism. For someone who has failed publicly and repeatedly, beginning again needs more than courage. It starts with kindness to yourself. We must communicate with ourselves the way we would to someone who is tired but still battling it out.
Second is grit, defined by Angela Duckworth as sustained passion and perseverance toward long-term goals. Grit is not loud. It does not announce itself on social media. It looks like registering again when no one expects you to. It looks like choosing effort over ego, patience over pride.
Third is post-traumatic growth, a concept supported by decades of research showing that individuals can experience psychological growth after repeated setbacks. Failure reshapes values. It deepens empathy. It teaches humility. The man who failed the Bar 11 times did not walk away empty-handed because he walked away transformed.
Fourth is meaning-making. Viktor Frankl’s work reminds us that suffering becomes bearable when it has meaning. Failure asks a quiet question: “Why does this still matter to you?” If the answer remains, then the journey, however delayed, remains valid. For Eduardo, the bar passer after 11 attempts, he wanted to serve as an inspiration to his children. He told reporters, “As long as you are alive, there is hope.”
That leads me, finally, to the concept of hope theory, developed by Charles Snyder. Hope is not blind optimism. It is the belief that there are pathways to move forward, even if these are longer or unconventional. Hope is strategic. It adapts. It begins again.
As a new year begins, let this be your permission or sign to begin again. Whether you failed the Bar, a regular Math exam, a long-term relationship, or yourself, always remember that your worth is not reduced by one result. The bravest stories are not always about passing on the first try. Sometimes, they are about standing up for the eleventh.
Some people arrive quickly. Others take the long way around. But as they always say, “The long way around is still a way home.”
Congratulations to all the bar passers and topnotchers. To those who did not make the cut, your story has yet to unfold. Begin again.
For your random thoughts, email the author at randomrepublika@gmail.com.
