PROCESSING

Waiting Forever for “Polished”

Reflections on college decisions and finding grounding in my own words

Before I opened every decision, I reminded myself of three things:

• I’m surrounded by a loving and supportive community.
• I’m genuinely happy for every peer who got into a good school.
• I’m confident in my ability to build a future for myself.

I kept coming back to these truths because opening application after application to disappointing news is the kind of thing that quietly chips away at you, and I needed something to hold onto.

The people who kept me going

The only reason that I mustered up enough courage to keep opening those emails was because of the people around me. I am fortunate enough to have family, friends, and mentors who remind me of my worth when things don’t go my way. They’re the people who help me get back up, who make me feel seen.

I understand how lucky I am, not everyone has such a supportive community. On the hardest days, it was everything.

The comparison thing

I’m not going to pretend that this part was easy. When you go to a competitive high school in Silicon Valley and your friends are getting into great schools, comparison isn’t something you can logic your way out of. It just…sits with you.

I struggled (I’m still struggling) with navigating the space between being genuinely happy for my peers and grieving that my hard work didn’t land the way that I had hoped.

But if there’s one thing I keep coming back to, every decision is a part of my story. I continue to believe that, even when it’s hard to.

What I know I’m capable of

The only way to overcome this comparison spiral is to remember what I’ve actually done.

Throughout the past four years, I’ve taken many AP classes, spent hours at robotics, and built relationships with mentors and friends that genuinely changed me. And when I didn’t make my school’s robotics team, I reached out to another one, put in the work, and eventually became president.

Funnily enough, my college personal statement has become the most grounding thing I have right now. I wrote it to get into schools, but here I am reading it to process rejections instead. It’s a reminder, in my own words, that self-doubt and uncertainty have shown up at every new door, and I’ve always chosen to walk through it anyways.

Here’s that part I keep rereading:

My self-doubt may return every time I walk through a new door. It surfaced when I joined the robotics team, and then again at the start of my internship, and it may likely resurface when I start college. I know that a flood of questions will race through my mind again, but I will be able to draw upon my experience from my robotics team to show myself how I once turned uncertainty into growth. I am confident that no matter how I may feel at the start of any new endeavor, my willingness to embrace new experiences and put in the necessary work will allow me to always answer “Yes” to the question: “Will I be able to contribute anything meaningful?”

I meant it when I wrote it, and I still mean it.

Where I’m at now

I don’t know where I’m going to college yet. Almost all waitlists and rejections. It’s discouraging in a way that is difficult to articulate, so I’m not going to wrap it up neatly, because it isn’t neat.

What I do know is this: I have the community and capability to create meaning wherever I end up.

I’ve always written to process things, but it’s always been tucked away in my journal because I didn’t think my thoughts were polished enough.

But now:

I’m 18, I don’t know where I’ll end up, and I’m realizing that waiting until things are polished means waiting forever.

So this is me, sharing in public. Not because I have answers (I don’t), but because I hope that by watching someone navigate their journey makes yours feel a little less lonely.

That’s what this is. I’m glad you’re here.