Have I procrastinated a little bit on my college applications? You tell me. I have 11 days until the most important application of my life is sent off to New Haven and I am in a complete panic over my essays that are only half done. For the past eight years, one school has been the center of my world and I can’t even begin to find the words to describe how much I want to be accepted.
Ever since I was eight years old, Yale has been my dream, my goal. The light at the end of the tunnel that leads to a world of possibility (a little overdramatic? probably). For me, Yale is my perfect fit, a place full of creativity and provoking ideas, but whenever I seem to mention to someone that I am interested in attending the great Ivy League school that is Yale, I receive one of two reactions. The first is typical amongst adults, they look at me puzzled and start to interrogate me on what I want to do with my life. The second is a simple twinkle in the eye that can only be perceived as judgment, this usually comes from my peers. Their mouths don’t dare say it but I can tell they think it’s foolish of me to think I could get into a school like Yale.
Sure both of these responses could be more offensive in my own mind as my insecurities take hold, but either way, others’ reactions have left me discouraged at times. Often I will turn my interest into a punchline in order to soften the reaction I get, diminishing myself into someone just trying to please my eight-year-old self. However, recently, I’ve regained a fire that hasn’t burned inside of me for a while now. An inferno of motivation and inspiration, that has (not entirely) obliterated my self-doubts, at least for the time being. The only question lingering in my mind right now is, “Why not me?”
My therapist has asked me this question thousand times over. Whenever I get filled with doubt in who I am and tell her I think I’m going to fail or be rejected, she always asks me, “Why not you? Someone has to get it, to be it, so why can’t that be you?” I always laughed and would simply recite a list of my weaknesses and flaws for her to sigh at, but now I think I believe it. For years I’ve been stuck in this self-fulfilling prophecy that has labeled me as an anti-academic. Someone who isn’t that smart or well-versed in school, but in reality, I am more scholarly than I have allowed myself to be.
I treasure knowledge and the expansion of my own mind. I love learning, granted about things that I’m interested in, but either way, I relish in it. I find education fascinating and enjoyable, now the actual system itself has hindered some of my love of learning, but that is an entirely different thought.
I am tired of telling myself I am only capable of X, Y, and Z when I am able to succeed in every letter of the alphabet. So, as I complete these final essays and prepare to send off a manuscript of myself, I will echo the question of, “Why not me?” as a reminder that I am more than what I allow myself to be.