To all the students that lost their love,
The bottom line is being rejected sucks. Sure, when you didn’t get that one true love of yours it probably stung (@TimothéeChalamet? Anyone else?) but when a college rejects you, well – it’s personal. You spent days on that application, poured your heart out, and spit out some Alexander Hamilton worthy sentences. Then, the e-mail – a sugar coated punch to the gut: “it was a very competitive year, and we regret to inform you that you have not been selected.”
I remember when it happened to me. I read those words. But all I could understand was that I wasn’t enough.
Now if you were like me, and got your rejection letter at night, you probably just cozied up into bed and stared at the wall, asking philosophical questions. You know. Deep stuff. Like… “Are pancakes called pancakes because they’re made in a pan?” Another option would be to watch videos on youtube to fill the void of emptiness inside you. But no. I was expected to go out that night with some friends… Yay (!!!) … Let’s act happy when really on the inside I feel like a sad shrivelled up daisy, deprived of water. I tried to participate in conversations but I couldn’t because Donald Trump’s voice was repeating “SAD, so sad” in my head, again and again. My only relief of this agony was sleep, wow #whereisthelove?
The numbness came first, a feeling of well… nothing. By the time I had gotten over the sad and heartbroken feelings, I just felt empty – like there was a space in my chest labeled ‘pride’ where my self identity used to reside.
That morning I woke up feeling like a worthless piece of scrap metal, self-pity had set in, and scrolling through my facebook feed did not help.
(PS: if you are that person who posted their acceptance letter on any sort of social media platform, stop reading this, leave now, I’m happy for you except, not really.)
The definition of self-pity: excessive, self-absorbed unhappiness over one’s own troubles. Well, good job Google, you nailed it. I’m a self-absorbed person.
I spent that day in bed, watching heart-wrenchingly sad movies, My Sister’s Keeper, The Fault In Our Stars, Dear, John, I remember actually googling, “movies about cancer where people die”. That’s right, when I’m sad I take this stuff to extremes. 1.5 pints of Ben and Jerry’s was consumed that day – a record for me. I googled “what to do when you fail.” Keeping in mind that “when one door closes another opens” was not working for me at this point. As far as I could see all my doors had been sealed shut by cement.
But then. Something happened.
So basically it went like this………..
I had a very long hot shower (sorry environment) drank a protein shake, with extra matcha powder. I took a deeeeeepp breath. Mourning period was over. I had to get my ducks in a row. I tapped into my inner feminist, yogi guru, inner goddess because I wasn’t about to let a small group of desk slaves ruin my perception of my own self-worth.
I medicated with Tylenol and earl grey tea, opened my computer, and started looking for different opportunities, seminars, volunteer opportunities, and courses. Then something weird happened. I spent 25 hours 5 minutes and 3 seconds on another application and had an epiphany.
Admissions offices have no idea who I am. They don’t know that when I laugh I also snort uncontrollably and that I can cook a killer stir-fry, while simultaneously eating an unnatural amount of ice cream. They don’t know who I am, and therefore, their determination can’t be a reflection of who I am.
So, the next time you get rejected (because rejection is inevitable), just know it wasn’t you. You are independent, smart, beautiful. Students, I get it, we are constantly going through breakups, loving something so much and having it reject you is the worst, but let’s be honest, you are so much better than this. Be a bad ass, nasty woman trailblazer, and shove it in their faces, you are more than a rejection letter. We all are.
By: Grade 12 Student