Of course it will never end… even for me, who once already received both acceptance and rejection letters several years ago.
I’m not writing for those who got accepted but those who got rejected because you’re the bravest soldiers in this world being able to face your deepest pain yet still have to move on and continue the race. And also for those who got accepted but not satisfy with what they got, this piece is still for you…
Trying to make your dream come true is already incredible. Yet, not many of us have the best luck to survive. The game is never fair and chances keep fading away. I believe this is one of the most transformative experience that you are both unlucky and fortunate to have. You will be forced to reshape who you are, rethink what you want & what you need. With defeats and pains, we learn so much about humility and the limits of ourselves better than any kind of victories. Such is the recipe for future growth and success if you keep on investing in yourself with clarity, knowledge and physical wellness.
I didn’t got accepted to top schools in the US. I only go to a small college that later on become slightly well-known because of my choice going there. Even my SAT score didn’t surpass 1900 while most friends scored a minimum of 2100. Thinking yourself as a loser is suicidal. I sympathize with that but that’s not going to change until you pick up yourself and move on.
Then you may ask how the hell did I win scholarships from my current college ? Long full story you can find it here.
To be honest, I’m still struggling with identity crisis and career choices and I don’t know the clue to prove anything to you but I do believe “If there’s a will, there’s a way”.
Keep your strength and belief. Be patient & resilient.
Below is the poem that my Wharton alumni send me for same purpose on that very same day: April 1st 2011 when I got a rejection letter from my dream school.
No pathway to success is the same.
Don’t stop fighting and discovering your own one.
Write to me if you want.
The Road Not Taken I By Robert Frost (1874–1963)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.