This is the time of year when many South African families find themselves holding their breath.

Matric results are being released. University offers are landing. For some, doors are opening exactly as hoped. For others, the news is more complicated. A dream university did not come through. A first choice was declined. A carefully imagined path suddenly feels uncertain.

It is an emotionally charged moment, made even heavier by the financial decisions that follow quickly behind it.

How much will this really cost? How far should we stretch? What does “enough” actually look like?

The Dream and the Reality

From a young age, I dreamed of studying abroad. Oxford loomed large in my imagination, not just as a university, but as a gateway to the world. I applied for Rotary scholarships and explored every possible avenue to make that dream a reality.

Academically, I was strong. I was a leader, Deputy Head Girl, culturally involved and well balanced. I received one or two local scholarship opportunities, but they were at Afrikaans universities far from home. Ultimately, my parents’ financial reality meant that studying abroad simply was not possible.

At the time, I was devastated.

What I did not understand then, but appreciate deeply now, is that this was not a failure. It was a boundary. And boundaries, while painful, often shape us in important ways.

I chose to study at UCT, an outstanding institution in its own right. It was not the dream I had imagined, but it became the foundation of the life and career that followed.

A Conscious Approach to Funding

My parents made a deliberate decision about how my studies would be funded.

They believed that contributing towards my education without removing responsibility entirely would instil the right values. I applied for a student loan. They paid the interest each month while I studied, easing the burden without erasing it. I worked part time to contribute where I could. I became obsessed with getting statements and watching the balance shrink!

When I finally graduated, settling the loan became my graduation gift.

It was a thoughtful balance. I understood the cost. I felt the responsibility and I stepped into adulthood with both gratitude and accountability. At the time, it felt tough, but in hindsight, it was one of the greatest gifts they could have given me.

What University Really Costs

One of the biggest mistakes families make is underestimating the true cost of university. Tuition fees are only the beginning. There is accommodation, food, transport, textbooks, laptops, printing, data and social expectations that quietly add up. There are potentially flights or travel home, emergencies and the inevitable moment when something breaks at exactly the wrong time.

For those studying abroad, exchange rates add another layer of uncertainty and risk.

The cost is not just financial. It is emotional. It is the pressure parents feel to provide and the pressure young adults feel not to disappoint.

Standing on the Other Side Now

As a parent myself, I view these decisions very differently.

I now understand the quiet anxiety that sits behind the numbers. The desire to give your child every opportunity, while also knowing that stretching too far can create stress that lingers long after graduation.

I also understand that not getting the dream does not mean not getting a future.

Sometimes the university you do not attend becomes the path that shapes your resilience, independence and perspective. Sometimes disappointment opens doors you did not even know existed.

Standing in It Again, This Time as a Parent

As I write this, I find myself standing in a familiar place again, but from the other side.

Jess is starting Grade 11. The marks she achieves at the end of this year are the marks she will use to apply for university. In many ways, they carry almost as much weight as Matric itself. Strong results now can ease pressure later, open doors earlier and in some cases, make external funding or scholarships possible.

She is academically strong and ambitious. Like me at her age, she has aspirations of studying abroad. And like my parents before me, I am acutely aware that for those dreams to become reality, bursaries and scholarships would need to play a role.

That is not an easy place to sit as a parent.

There is the tension between encouraging excellence and not placing unbearable pressure on a young person who is still navigating adolescence, identity, friendships and self belief. There is the quiet guilt that can creep in when you cannot simply write a cheque to make a dream possible. And there is the deep desire to want the world to be your child’s oyster, while knowing that limits, whether financial or emotional, are part of life.

All of this unfolds while they are still figuring out who they are, what they love and who they might one day become.

How Much Is Enough

This is the question parents ask me most often.

Enough is not about matching what others are doing. It is not about prestige. And it is not about exhausting yourself financially to avoid a difficult conversation.

Enough is funding education in a way that supports learning without breeding entitlement, protects parental financial security and allows young adults to develop responsibility and resilience.

There is no single right answer. There is only what is sustainable for your family in this season of life.

Planning Changes Everything

When university planning starts early, options multiply.

Time allows for saving, for realistic conversations and for children to be part of the process rather than passive recipients. It also allows families to align expectations long before emotions are running high.

Education is an investment. But it is also a transition. One that marks the shift from childhood into independence.

How that transition is funded matters.

A Final Reflection

At the time, I believed university was the destination. In hindsight, it was the bridge.

The real value of higher education lies not only in the degree, but in the lessons learned along the way. About effort, responsibility, disappointment and adaptation.

As families navigate results season and the decisions that follow, my hope is that we allow space for both ambition and realism. For dreams and boundaries. For encouragement without fear.

Sometimes the path you imagined is not the one you walk. And sometimes, that path teaches you exactly what you need to know to support the next generation with wisdom rather than anxiety.