I turned 41 last week and still hold a grudge against my #ALevel history teacher 24 years after she claimed she would predict me a B and then went on to put a C on my UCAS form without telling me.

I got rejected by all the universities I applied to, all on the same day. I had no idea why until I spoke to my form tutor who told me what the history teacher had done. She probably shouldn't have done but I think she understood a bit about empathy and mental health.

I spent too much time wondering why someone would do this to a child who used to buy history books for fun from the age of about 4. Was it because I didn't fit her mould of what a history student should be? Was it because I had not one clue about Oxbridge when I started college?

Anyway, I got an A. I went to find her on results day to see if she could look me in the eye. She somewhat congratulated herself for spurring me on. I can still see the smug, unapologetic look on her face as I explained how much that one sly move had dashed my university hopes.

I got drunk and borrowed someone's 'clearing' supplement from a newspaper. It was probably something a kid from working class stock had never read before, like The Guardian. I called Leeds Met and asked if they'd have me. "With an A in history, you're already in," I was told.

If the teacher in question ever sees this, I'd love her to take a look at what's happened since. Not because I'm smug (I've worked fucking hard since) but because she was https://www.linkedin.com/in/benbrooksdutton/

Just don't mark people down when they are clearly full of spirit and ambition. If you don't get the grade, you won't get in anyway, so it serves no purpose.

All I would say to anyone faced with taking a course they never even hoped to do is to work as hard as possible, get a fucking 1st and then imagine the person or people who knocked you down dining out on how they propped you up.

I won't name her, but let's just call her Mrs Felicia for the sake of it