What, Like It’s Hard? // One year later, an LSAT reflection

I took the Law School Admissions Test — otherwise known as the LSAT, or my worst enemy — three times — once just over a year ago on Feb. 9, again on April 11 and one final time on June 5 of last year. 

Like everyone else who takes the LSAT, I wanted to be one and done. A friend convinced me to take it in February, and I studied for over a year in preparation. Her advice was good, and I encourage others to seriously consider taking the exam in February. I wasn’t scoring consistently at my goal score, but certainly around it. I have historically been a good test taker. I thought my typical cool and collected demeanor in regard to standardized exams would help make up an extra point or two, and I wouldn’t have to take the exam a second — or third — time.

Oh, how naive I was. How cool and completely uncollected I became the day of my first test.

I remember sitting in the car as my friend drove me to the testing site over by the Ross Park Mall. She hates Taylor Swift, but she put her on the radio knowing I was a fan in hopes that it would calm me down. I did a practice section of the reading comprehension section that morning in preparation — a terrible idea. I thought it would help me shake off the morning rustiness, but all it did was terrify me that I was going to bomb.

She dropped me off, promised me a celebratory coffee when she picked me up a few hours later, and I was left all by myself in front of the stale building in the corporate park. I checked in, locked all my stuff away in a locker and thought all would be well. I sat in my little cubicle and put the noise-canceling headphones on. The reading section was the first to appear, the same section I did horribly on that morning and historically the section I struggled with the most. 

I was maybe 10 minutes into the test, just finishing up reading the second passage, when the screen went dark. After the black screen disappeared, I was met with the log-in screen. The test I had just been in the middle of completely disappeared.

I immediately shot my hand up and turned toward the proctor’s window. I realized pretty quickly that I wasn’t the only one who had gotten kicked out. A few others in the room with me taking the exam were also booted out. The four of us kept making eye contact — I remember the man across the room’s leg vibrating nearly at pace with how fast my heart was beating.

The proctors were far too lax about the situation, increasing my already heightened nerves. They had no idea what occurred and had no idea if our test time was running out or if we could even get back in. All I could think about was how I studied for over a year, and a stupid technical issue was messing with my plans.

We did get back in, and time hadn’t run out. But my focus and what little composure I had remaining completely dissolved.

I sat in near complete silence on the way home, sipping the coffee my friend bought me. I went home, laid in bed and called my parents to tell them how it went. Then I spent the rest of the day horizontal in bed, crying on and off.

During the month I waited for my results, I kept telling myself that maybe I did better than I thought I did. Maybe I wasn’t as thrown off as I believed myself to be.
The day I received my results, I Zoomed my mom in, and she was met with a sobbing, blubbering daughter over 400 miles away. She sent my boyfriend to come comfort me. I remember walking over to him after class and just falling into him because I felt so defeated and hurt. A year of studying, a year of plans I turned down, a year of stress and suffering and diligent studying down the drain.

On my first exam, I got eight points less than my average practice test score, a score I hadn’t seen since 2023. 

In retrospect, I was incredibly dramatic. But at the time, it felt like the end of the world, like I wouldn’t ever get to my goal. I spent the week mourning what was supposed to be a chill semester and got to work. I continued studying, taking the exam again in April and for a third time in June. I finally met my goal and scored above the 90th percentile, the only goal I was striving for when I first started studying in 2023.

Here is my relative study plan. Please note that I do not necessarily recommend this schedule for everyone. I started studying one hour a week in January of 2023, just trying to understand the test and learn some basic skills. That summer, I bumped it up to around 3 hours a week. I wasn’t perfect with this — some weeks, I did absolutely nothing — but I did what I could. The first eight months of 2023 were spent with a hand-me-down textbook set I got for free from a friend. It was the LSAT Trainer — a book I recommend as a good beginner book to everyone. 

Then, I spent the fall 2023 semester with the Powerscore LSAT Bibles, another series I absolutely loved, studying around 10 to 15 hours a week and diligently taking practice exams, drilling and reading the advice. After the February exam, I signed up for 7Sage live classes, another investment I really think helped. I was back to studying 10 to 15 hours a week, taking live classes on the reading comprehension section at every opportunity, until my final exam on June 5. 

In a club meeting I had just the other night, a current 1L student described the LSAT as a test that doesn’t test you on what you need to know for law school, but tests you on just how bad you want to go. 

The LSAT is hard, and if you care even the slightest bit about your score, it is time-consuming. Figure out what study schedule is best for you and study strategically. There are many things I would do differently if I had to do it all again, so don’t necessarily take advice from me. The good news about the LSAT is once you’re done with it for the last time, you are done with it forever