My plan was always to take the June LSAT. After talking with pre-law advisers, incessantly texting friends in law school, and stalking the TLS forums, I knew the June LSAT would be the most advantageous for me. I wouldn’t have to worry about studying during my senior year of college, I could focus on my personal statement, and I could submit my applications on the earlier side of the cycle. In the back of my head, I knew that if I wanted to, I could retake it in October, but that was more of a soothing reassurance than anything. I never thought it would ACTUALLY come to that.
The day of the test, I was feeling good. On my prep tests, I’d gone from missing 12 questions on Logic Games to missing just one. I was feeling confident, and when I emerged from that way-too-cold testing room on June 8, I breathed the biggest sigh of relief. I. Was. Done. Never to look at another grouping game again. Done. Except I wasn’t.
Getting my score back (after what seemed like an eternity) was one of the biggest letdowns of my life to date. I did well, don’t get me wrong. But I missed my goal score by 5 points. Five freaking points. And because I did well, no one wanted to listen to me whine or complain about my score, because in their eyes, I had nothing to cry about. I have always set extremely high standards for myself, and this time, I didn’t meet them. Despite my decent score, I knew seconds after opening that email that I would be taking the test again. Yes, I could have stuck with my first score and applied with it anyway. I would have saved myself a lot of stress during the first months of my final year of college, but I always would have wondered: what could my life have been if I’d just sucked it up and tried again?
So here I am. Taking my capstone course, juggling 4 campus execs, completing my honors research requirements, all while trying to study for the LSAT. But somehow, despite all of the extra stress, I feel this sense of empowerment now. Now, I know what test day will feel like. I know where my strengths and weaknesses lie. And most importantly, I now have the support of LSATMax (shameless plug, sorry folks).
So here’s my advice (and take this with a grain of salt, seeing as I haven’t taken the October test yet): if there’s even the tiniest voice in your head that’s saying there’s a chance you could improve your score, take it again. It’s only a test, and the worry and stress of preparing for it is nothing compared to the fear that you didn’t reach your highest potential.
And with that, I’m off to my review of sufficient and necessary conditions. See you in October, LSAT. I’m coming for you.