Love and Hate: A Complicated LSAT Relationship

So in October, on the day before I got my score from my third LSAT attempt, I wrote a post but never published it.  In that post, I wrote: "Will this be an incredible experience where I worked as hard as I ever have and ultimately found the success I know I’m capable of?  Or will it be a humbling disappointment that will further teach me about life and patience and trust?"

Well the answer to that question was clearly, definitively, crushingly, the latter.  It was a total bomb, worse than any of the (30) practice tests I had ever taken throughout my (two years of) studying.  To put it mildly, all of my life's hopes and dreams were instantly flushed down the toilet. 
So I deliberated for a week or two, contrasting cliches like "make the most of life" and "everything happens for a reason" with "never give up" and make your own destiny."  So I signed up to take my beloved test a fourth time.  
It was a huge decision, because the pressure of this test creates a huge emotional weight for me, and often, CheyAnn is the one who helps carry that weight.  I don't think she was too excited for me to go at it again.
BUT, my persistence finally paid off, after two years of prep.  Somehow, on my FOURTH freaking attempt, I raised my score significantly and ended up comfortable with a percentile score in the mid-90s.
It's just like the saying: The third time's a charm—and if its not, you crush it in your mind-vice, take your destiny by the horns and freaking own it, crush it, and smash it in a testosterone-fueld rage.