Lessons from Applying (and failing) to Enter My Dream College

Hi, i spent half a decade (i.e. about one-third) of my life obsessing over university entrances.

I fantasised about the exuberance of receiving my acceptance letters — gateways into a higher social class; indicators of success; bragging rights — countless times in these 5 years, and worked ten-fold compared to what I probably would've if not for this dream.

And it fell through.

I hit the ground running, and then the ground snapped open into a sinkhole and I discovered my reality: the breathtaking bedrock of failure. Years of indulging in cheesy YA high school novels and shows that romanticised this moment of bildungsroman. And my moment to have it. Gone.

But melodrama aside, this is me, 5 months after receiving my first rejection letter from my dream school. I'm alive, I no longer remember the crucial decision dates nor the initial heartbreak. With an acceptance letter (and full scholarship!) to a globally T10 (based on whatever metric QS uses) course, albeit in my motherland, here is what I've learnt from the extensive process.

1. New Capacity for Tenacity

I don't know who gave 13-year-old me the guts, or the confidence to demand a transfer (just to take the IB to aid my US application 5 years later). I don't know how I went behind my parents' backs, and had the initiative and drive to do all that. I've retold this story countless times, but it still takes me awhile to register the fact that I was thirteen at the time.

I had barely slipped out of my 'reading bad Wattpad fiction' phase, and was definitely not ready to start writing formal emails into my new academic institution. I probably addressed the addressee by her first name. I had been severely underprepared for my interview, with part of my portfolio having been created less than 24-hours ago. I had no formal arts training. I stress this over and over again. I don't know how I got in, but I did!

And this subconsciously made me realise that cold emailing works; taking initiative — asking — works wonders.

This was the same initiative and opportunistic nature that eventually gave me countless opportunities, be it my (very short-lived) career as an Instagram influencer (my first cheque at 14! That i used to buy Nikes), freelance copywriting, art, and design gigs, and much more. I've been blessed with the ability to constantly seek and identify opportunity in everything. But only now do I realise that it had been the impending (though distant) deadline of College Applications that kickstarted an agency which propelled me to exercise these strengths.

So 5 years later, asking has become almost instinctual. In the most cliché way I can put it, I no longer need a deadline to remind me, "carpe diem!"

2. Comfort in My Own Skin

I'm bold, but I wouldn't necessarily say I'm self-confident. While boldness assumes confidence, I'd argue that most of my apparent 'courage' stems from impulsivity. This is because for the longest time I've lacked the assurance and security that I feel indicates confidence.

I shake when I raise my voice in a room, even though I sit with my body angled diagonally, and my arm swung across the backrest. Intentional manipulations of body language to seem more put together than everyone else; if my body language can psych others into thinking I’m more confident and hence make them less confident, perhaps I'd appear as confident as I hope. Fake it till you make it, right?

I can't sing properly in front of literally anyone, because I know I don't have the strongest voice or widest range. Consequently, when forced into such situations, my self-doubt eats at my voice, and I present an infinitely worse version of myself. These were my experiences at my first MUN conference, and Odyssey of the Mind, respectively. I participated in both because I wanted something to fill another space on my college application. But was the anxiety really worth filling that slot? Arguably not.

Nonetheless, I went through with both. Maybe I have an issue with saying 'no', or admitting defeat. But in these scenarios, it served me well. And so, this is the cliché narrative of me overcoming my glossophobia:

In a room of judgemental gazes, I reframed my mindset to seeing my council mates, as nervous, underprepared, and fearful of being called out to speak. In a full face of the ugliest face-paint, holding a poorly crafted puppet bird donning a blonde wig, flailing my arms back and forth, rapping in a bird-voice an as poorly crafted parody of Eminem's Lose Yourself to a full auditorium, I learnt to take myself less seriously. And in both cases, these efforts were rewarded.

If not for the agency of college applications, I may have never reached this far beyond my comfort zone, and may have never grown as into my own skin. Which was vital in shaping my self-expression.

3. Self-Expression for the Sake of Self

I hate talking about things I think I did well. I hate humble-braggers, braggarts, Loud Speakers — the whole crew that perpetually feels the need to broadcast every accomplishment to feel validated. I'm a silent worker, I do things, and only speak when necessary.

This did not serve me well. My judgemental inclinations also manifested in twice as high expectations for myself to pole-vault over, causing me to never produce anything tangible, or receive any recognition. This also severely impeded my ability to perform in interviews.

Don't be like the Loud Speakers, but also don't be like me — both are equally as insecure dimwits.

If you know me in real life, I don't talk much about my book (yes, I’m aware it’s terribly ironic, given there’s an entire page –– and more–– dedicated to it on here). WIWTA and every page in her is an extension of my being. Each poem speaks of a moment in time so emotionally charged that it propelled me to write. And I don't know how to tread lightly in the ravines of emotion. But alas, I am atrocious at sales and publicity. I doubt you'll ever see me in advertising.

The crux of my hesitation to properly market WIWTA was my mindset. I do not have a single essay written about my process of writing WIWTA, or anything that I have learnt. I struggle to talk about her during interviews, and downplay her when talking to my friends.

In a way, to ensure her success, I was perpetually lowering the bar, selling her for less than what I believed she was worth. Furthermore, being one of my few avenues for complete vulnerability and self-expression, failure could not be an option. I was petrified. Yet, once again, this backfired as I completely overlooked the years of consistent effort that I had pumped into creating every inch of the book from scratch, which was in itself a success.

I'm still learning to see self-expression as an avenue for personal growth, rather than to impress. I'm still learning that self-expression does not need to be perfect, because neither am I. Hence, to others, WIWTA’s failure or success to effectively communicate my ideas will always be up for debate. Nonetheless, in the lens of personal growth, both are actually indicators and/or opportunities for growth. It takes a lot from me to say this, but I see WIWTA as a success. And I will continue telling everyone about her for as long as I deem appropriate.

4. Shifting Goalposts and Reframing Mindsets

After all the preparation for the application and completing the application, there was only the waiting left. It was in these moments of frenzy of anxiety and uncertainty that I realised I had the ability to define my own success. It's self-explanatory and I feel like I should have discovered this earlier. But it didn't properly click till then.

When dealing with the single digit chances of college applications to T10s, every college advice video would reiterate the truckload of chance the gamble encompasses. The bulk of the result was still based on factors completely out of my control. This is where the goalpost shifting comes in: by redefining my success to what's only within my control, I had the ability to succeed despite the outcome. And so this is exactly what I did.

I took every step, and prepared as much as I believe I could have. I was rejected by the school, but as an applicant I succeeded. Consider this my cheesy way of comforting myself from my loss, but why would I subject myself to avoidable pain?

You could call this reframing of mindset 'cheating' or 'dishonest' to yourself. But to me, this was my motivation to my plan B to study locally, and what eased the sting of rejection. I'd reiterate, "why would I subject myself to avoidable pain?"

Writing college application essays gave me the room for reflection I needed to fully see my identity and goals. I put into words experiences I once thought unspeakable, and now have a more coherent understanding of myself, my passions, and motivations. I know that under the fluff of rhetorical devices and synonyms for 'passion', I became more mindful of the underlying connections in my multifaceted persona. The intensity of the process developed both my writing style and my thinking, and during interviews I realised how thoroughly I've started to know myself.

The college application process is one I don't regret, but would not repeat or recommend. It has been the most consuming and yet the least gratifying experience I've had. However, there are countless gems I picked up along the way that I wouldn't have if not for embarking on this journey. 

So this is me closing this map, chucking it into a dusty old box of memories. Thank you college applications, but also screw you.

More the latter.