Roxane: from two repeated years to veterinary studies 1,300 kilometres from home

At 24, Roxane knows all too well the distinctive sound of alarms set too early, suitcases repacked in a rush and video calls that freeze at exactly the wrong moment. A few years ago, she pictured herself joining a veterinary school in France, white coat over her shoulders and anxious dogs waiting in reception. Two years repeated, one unsuccessful entrance exam, then a choice that surprised those around her: moving 1,300 kilometres from home to study. Now in her third year, she is still learning how to care for animals, but she has also learned to live away from her family, translate her course materials and stop mistaking a detour for failure. Her journey challenges the usual assumptions.

Two repeated years and a failed entrance exam: when everything starts to unravel

In the corridors of her former secondary school, Roxane eventually knew the invigilators' faces better than those of some pupils in her own year group. Repeating a year once is difficult enough to explain, particularly while everyone else heads into higher education with boxes packed and carefully laid plans. Repeating two years is something else altogether: the questions become harder to bear, as do the silences. Yet she held on to the same ambition of entering veterinary training, despite inconsistent grades and the feeling that she constantly had to prove she was capable.

What she remembers most about the day the entrance exam results were released is a screen, a list of names and a knot in her stomach. Her name was not there. At that point, disappointment was not a dramatic scene from a film; it was a meal eaten without appetite, messages left unanswered for a while and the dread of having to break the news. We all know that moment when a very specific plan slips away just before we can reach it.

Veterinary entrance exams remain highly demanding selections, where academic attainment never tells the whole story. Places are scarce, applicants are extremely well prepared and the pressure often builds over several years. For Roxane, not getting in was a harsh blow, but one that was almost helpful: it made her consider options she had previously refused to entertain. Her dream had not vanished; she simply had to accept that it might not be reached through the route she had first chosen.

Moving away to study when staying feels safer

Living 1,300 kilometres from home, Roxane found herself facing a daily life with no familiar reference points. She had to find somewhere to live, get used to a new city, navigate different administrative processes and shop in a supermarket filled with brands she did not recognise. Moving away for university is not simply about the distance marked on a map. It is a chain of small choices: catching a bus, asking for directions, cooking alone after a long day of lectures and ringing your parents without letting them see how difficult the day has been.

Her advice to students who are hesitating would be straightforward: do not wait until you feel completely ready. No one truly is when it is time to leave their teenage bedroom, friends and familiar routines. Before going, Roxane compared course content, living costs, placement opportunities and the arrangements for degree recognition. That preparation may seem detached beside the emotion of leaving, but it prevents many disappointments. A robust plan is also built with a spreadsheet, a few phone calls and very practical questions.

A common mistake is assuming that changing direction wipes out the years that came before. For a long time, Roxane saw the years she repeated as a blemish on her record, when they had actually given her particular resilience in the face of setbacks. Let us be honest: nobody really congratulates themselves every day for having failed. It can take time to understand what those years have taught you: how to work differently, ask for help and absorb bad news without abandoning everything else.

“I stopped counting the years I had lost on the day I realised I was finally where I belonged,” Roxane says.

• Check exactly how the degree you are considering will be recognised.
• Set a realistic budget for accommodation, transport and trips home.
• Speak to students already enrolled at the institution you are considering.
• Plan a support network, even at a distance, for discouraging periods.

In her third year, Roxane is no longer trying to catch up with anyone

Today, Roxane's days move between lectures, practical work, revision and student life away from those close to her. Third year leaves little room for regret: there are subjects to master, technical skills to practise repeatedly and exams that come around quickly. In her everyday life, she is no longer “the girl who failed the entrance exam”. She is a veterinary student like any other, with her strengths, her tiredness and that very real sense of joy when a difficult concept finally becomes clear.

Other people's view of her has changed, or perhaps it is her own perspective that has shifted. At first, some relatives asked whether she intended to come back soon, as though leaving could only be a temporary episode. Now, they are more likely to discuss her placements, her favourite subjects and the next stages of her course. Sometimes you need to move away before others understand the direction you are taking. The distance has given her a kind of independence she had never expected.

Her experience highlights an uncomfortable truth: straightforward paths are often easier to tell than uneven ones. Yet detours are far from unusual. Moving to another country, starting again after a rejection or giving yourself an extra year guarantees nothing, but it can create an unexpected opening. At 24, Roxane does not feel behind. She is progressing at her own pace, carrying a heavier bag than anticipated and a determination no ranking can truly measure.

Roxane's veterinary journey speaks to more students than we might think

There is something deeply familiar in her story for anyone who has ever felt ashamed of a school report, a change of course or a year that looked nothing like what was planned. Academic success is often presented as a straight line: the right course, the right entrance exam, the right age, then the right job. Real life is rarely so tidy. It overflows with delays, closed doors, unplanned departures and difficult conversations around the family table.

Roxane does not turn her two repeated years into trophies. She knows what they cost her in confidence, energy and, at times, money. But she also refuses to let them become the only sentence used to describe her future. That change in perspective matters: a failure can remain painful without becoming final. It can even teach someone to make clearer choices, away from other people's judgement and prescribed routes.

At a time when many students compare themselves with polished-looking lives on social media, her path brings a simple truth back into focus: the age printed on a student card says nothing about a person's perseverance. Those who feel out of step may see in it a quiet permission to look for another route. Callings do not always disappear after a rejection; sometimes, they simply take a longer train.

Key point	Detail	Value for the reader
Failure does not erase a plan	Roxane did not pass the veterinary entrance exam after repeating two years.	Understanding that a rejection can lead to an alternative route.
Mobility requires genuine preparation	She studies 1,300 kilometres from home, with a new daily life to organise.	Planning for the budget, accommodation and recognition of the course.
Age does not define success	At 24, she is in the third year of veterinary studies.	Putting the pressure of the “right age” and direct paths into perspective.