My Application Wasn't My Best Effort

For months, I labored over a 14-page writing sample for my application. Just two weeks before the deadline, I scrapped everything and started anew. I pulled excerpts from previous blog posts and wove them together to create a unified narrative. My friend from an Ivy League school meticulously edited my sample three times. The first draft was riddled with corrections. We debated revisions until our additions muddied the waters. Ultimately, we decided to submit what I had crafted.

In the following weeks, I reread my application, questioning whether I still believed in it. After agonizing over my writing for months, I now felt capable of producing a stronger application, but that didn’t change the fact that what I submitted was my best effort at that time.

Yet, it still wasn’t enough.

The Heartbreak of Rejection

The mere mention of "graduate school" brings tears to my eyes. "I didn't get in" echoes in my mind like a broken record. I cried myself to sleep that night and indulged in four chocolate chip cookies from Chick-fil-A. I called my grandma and asked her to keep the news from my mom, and I remained in my favorite hockey t-shirt for days.

What If Their Decision Had Nothing to Do with Me?

The rejection email indicated that the selection committee based its decision on merit, teaching interests, and the potential benefits of the program for applicants. Perhaps they preferred candidates whose research goals aligned more closely with faculty interests, or maybe budget cuts limited the number of spots available.

The pool of applicants could have swelled, as many, like me, hoped that three years of graduate school would lead to a better job market. They might have thought my social media presence meant I didn't need formal education to develop my writing, as I was already cultivating an audience.

Sure, the successful candidates may have presented stronger writing samples, but I find that conclusion hard to accept. In a few months, the university will share profiles of the admitted students. I will read their bios and share their images with friends, boasting about my qualifications while feeling the sting of rejection.

I Feel Validated

I met all the necessary criteria. My undergraduate GPA exceeded the required benchmark. Juggling multiple responsibilities while working through college in a bustling restaurant environment, I maintained a competitive GPA. My experience in family law firms and restaurants has equipped me to navigate high-pressure situations while being sensitive to others.

What more could they have wanted?

For two years, I've been articulating my qualifications in articles, yet I still find it hard to break into the job market. Sometimes, I wonder if my situation has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I applied to this program with a glowing recommendation and a GPA that met the requirements, yet I still faced rejection.

It's You, Not Me

I understand the flaw in my application. My writing sample was an unclear mix of fiction and non-fiction, attempting to pass off blog posts as narrative. It resembled an extended, disjointed opening statement. I needed to commit to either fiction or non-fiction, but why should I be restricted?

I am a versatile writer capable of both styles. A graduate application doesn’t need to be flawless; it should simply demonstrate my potential. If it were perfect, I would be submitting my manuscript to publishers instead of applying to grad school. Why must I limit myself to fit into a defined box for admissions committees?

Why can’t they create space for someone with diverse talents? Why can't I embrace all facets of my identity?

I'm Going Back to Bed

Please don’t pity me or express your condolences; you know how much this meant to me. I stopped crying an hour ago, but my headache persists, and I fear more tears will come. I didn’t get in.

Tomorrow, I plan to call my job coach. I will revisit my high school journal and start transforming it into a fictional manuscript. I will begin preparing my application for next year. But for today, I will indulge in chocolate chip cookies and binge-watch How I Met Your Mother.

I tried my best, and it’s okay to feel sad about it. If you’d like to accompany me on my writing journey, I invite you to subscribe to my email list for updates.