How far we come

When I was looking through old emails for my Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen fan site, I stumbled upon something I wrote in 2003. I was emo at the time to say the least, and suicidal if we prefer a more blunt approach. Here is the un-edited version of my thoughts on a lonely night in January, eleven years ago. It is complete with spelling errors for your amusement (WARNING: you will need the laugh).

I’m so scared right now. i am shaking.  I am grasping for air.  i dont want to die. but sometimes i think i do, and i am scared that if i think i do, i might try, when deep down i really dont want to. what happens when i do try, and then i change my mind? what happens when my mind desides to change, when it is already to late? is 10:58 right now, but what if i dont live till tomarrow? what if my mind desides to over come what i really feel deep down? what if i go down to the kitchen and get the knife? my life could end in an instant.. but yet i know i dont want it too. i think, how could i be so selfish, to want to take my own life? when all day i try to stop other people from making the same mistake. Then i start to think about what happens after. Who crys? who forgets me? Who moves on? Who doesnt?  Whats wrong with being different? we go through life with people teaching us we can be who ever we want, when really we have to be who everyone else wants us to be.

Besides the obvious desire to give my middle-school self some screen time, I’ve posted this for a reason. I’ve posted it because it is important to know and understand where we all come from. Earlier this week I was accepted to Yale with nearly a full scholarship. I wonder what that girl, the one who was so, so sad, would say about who I am today.

I find this thought comforting for a few reasons. First, it reminds me that nothing is forever; everything changes. It means I can’t get too held up in the moment because soon it will be over and I’ll have moved on. Second, it’s okay that sometimes I’m a sad-cat, and even that I used to be an extremely sad-cat. I’m still super strong and can accomplish a lot. Or so Yale thinks ;) Lastly, it means it gets better. Highs and lows evolve. This week I’m stressed out about all the other decisions coming in… but this time next year I’ll be somewhere else… and that somewhere is still a mystery. My “low” today is a hellofa lot better than it was then, for which I am thankful :)

One rejection does not mean defeat.

So last week I heard back from Stanford and it was a rejection notice. I’m obviously disappointed, but also acknowledge that this whole b-school this will work out as it shall. I gave a lot of consideration to the schools I was applying to and would be happy at any one of them. One rejection does not mean defeat.

The next 20 days are going to be trying though. I’m going to keep myself busy as much as possible so that I don’t sit and think endlessly about all the decisions that will be rolling in. By December 20th, I’ll hear back from 5 more schools. Leaving only 2 still up in the air. Pins and needles folks, pins and needles.

Time to wait

A week ago yesterday I submitted the last of my business school applications. I applied to eight which both gives me the best chances of benefiting from the Consortium and still time to apply round 2 or 3 if needed. It’s actually really good that I made it through them all before this feeling captured me though. I thought that after all the applications were in I would just be able to sit back, forget the process was happening, and magically get accepted to schools come December.

But, it’s not like that at all. Every day I think about how foolish I’ve been to think I’m good enough to get into the schools I want to; that I’m psyching myself out by thinking I can live up to the reputation I’ve imagined for myself. I understand the statistics, and therefore my chances. I recognize what a difficult year it could be for business school applicants. I accept that maybe I’m too young to be taken seriously but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m really just failing at life in every way.

Last week though, I was feeling a lot better. After literally months of preparing and writing essays and rewriting essays and stressing out, I was happy with the way I presented myself. I was confident in my ability to tell my story and that my story was a compelling one to tell. I’ve worked hard but also had really good opportunities offered to me that I’ve taken advantage of. I do all the things people say you’re supposed to do, so maybe I’m at least on par with my competition. Except it doesn’t feel that way now. It feels like a joke. Hopefully this is just the normal post-submission-blues and I’m not really letting down every single person in my life.

The talk

But not that talk…

A few weeks ago, most likely after attending a wedding, Joe and I discussed our own future wedding plans. I stuck to my guns: 6/9/2018 and no sooner. He smiled and said “just let me know if anything changes.”

Well, maybe something has changed. As joyous as a 6/9 wedding date would be, I was reconsidering waiting 5 more years. Granted, 29 is a great age to get married, if he and I are still together (big IF!) (jk, I love him to death). There are probably two reasons for me wanting to wheel it in a little sooner – one, everyone is having babies and babies are super cute and I want one. But, having read one article 8 years ago about marriages lasting if they wait 5 years after marriage before having children, I’m committed to meeting that minimum. Two – I don’t know and I hate admitting this, but weddings are beautiful and I kind of just want that. Well, the wedding itself, but also having Joe be my husband. I mean, just kidding, I’m open to anyone being my husband.

I brought this up while making dinner tonight. “Joe, my timeline has shifted a bit and I’m not longer as gung-ho about the 6/9 date..” He played surprised for a reasonable amount of time and then said “you know… first, I wasn’t going to ever let you choose the date like that and figured I’d have some say when it came down to it. Second, I sensed your timeline was changing when I brought this up last time. So, let’s just say it’ll happen when we are both ready.”

And then I hate that. Because I hate the power being ripped from my hands and I like being the one always in control. But I also want to be surprised and it is that terrible space of like, you really want a surprise party but you are so damn excited for your birthday and no one else seems to be so you are all sad but then also super curious as to why no one cared and then you end up ruining your own party.