Didn’t get into your dream school? Here’s a reality check: You’re not Rory Gilmore.

“We regret to inform you…”

And the next words scribbled to that sentence didn’t matter anymore. The apologetic tone that was meant to compensate for the initial shock did no avail. No sugar-coated words could cover up a rejection.

It was loud and clear, as if my mom was scolding me because I lost her umbrella. Cold and shameful, as if a bucket of cold water was splashed across my face. I know this summer will take a weighted toll on me, but I did not expect it to be this heavy.

If we’re in a coming-of-age film, this would be the part wherein the main character is having their breakthrough — accepted or not, they’ll still end up having a worthy character development. However, in this universe, it’s like having a badge of shame plastered on my forehead, in red bold letters, underlined: SHE DIDN’T MAKE IT.

I started to question myself: how did I go from having a Rory Gilmore moment, writing my valedictory speech last month down to drafting an appeal for admissions reconsideration, begging for a slot the next? 

That is not so very Rory Gilmore.

Turns out well-laid plans still fall through

Have you ever had a moment with your friends at a lunch table, seated for hours, just talking about the future? I had. Just as every mainstream media would picture a high school friendship, doing major life events inseparably.

Looking back at every plan we have crafted, and seeing none of it happening, I’ve come to a conclusion that getting into the same school and living together with your friends is a myth.

Let alone my own dreams get fulfilled. I used to be certain and vocal on how my life would look at 18: getting a degree and having a concrete footing in almost everything. I am the kind of girl who uses daily planners, never has a missing entry in her journal, and has a checklist of things needed to do per day — all things organized, as they call it. But no matter how well-laid my plans may be, no one could give us an absolute certainty about everything.

I know that; nonetheless seeing my dreams crushed and swept in an instant was painful.

Do what you needed to do

I’ve lost count of how many times I rewatched Lady Bird this summer because it feels like eating ice cream for the first time again. Chilly, consoling, and takes you somewhere but grounded to the truth all at once. Most of the time, I’m afraid to press play and read the screenplay because I’m getting used to the comfort it brings. 

It hits so close to home. It made me feel seen. It made me realize that the world is not crumbling into pieces just because I didn’t get into some university.  I did what I have to do, after all. I took the shot, dodged a bullet mayhaps. I know that I should be more considerate and not be too hard on myself.

But my mind didn’t agree with me. I also know that a single downfall would justify my existence, that my dreams are now just broken remnants of who I think I would be, a jumpstart manifestation of plans not being fulfilled. 

The co-existingly intense feelings I have been drowning myself in didn’t stop me from doing what I know the best to cope nonetheless. I started consuming an overwhelmingly numerous amount of media, jumping from one hyper fixation to another. I began giving quick scheme remarks in films — thrashing the most, admiring the few. 

And during those moments wherein I am trying to watch Florence Pugh’s entire cinematography, I am at peace. 

No admission results to be worried about, no pressure from family & friends I needed to endure, and no voice in my head telling me that all of my efforts from grade school to high school are wasted. Just me and my silly little laptop. 

It’s not you, it’s the system

There are a lot of questions occupying my mind up until now, but ‘why are we competing for limited slots just to experience quality education?’ is what lingers the most. 

Why do students have to undergo whatever process is this just to have a touch of what they call education? 

We’ve been told repeatedly: education is a right, not a privilege. But the mere fact that there is an evaluation for each and every student, making them fight for limited slots, is a reason enough not to recognize it as a right. 

That we know of yet

If there is anything I have learned during this soul-crushing process, that would be no matter how painful it is, never shut your door. Leave it open. 

You may not make it to your top choice, your second choice, your eleventh choice even, but never close your door for something that’s willing to arrive with no reservations. 

It’s true what they say, opportunities don’t knock twice. So make sure to leave them open, so it doesn’t have to knock, but only make their way through you. 

‘Too young to know it gets better,’ Taylor Swift said, and she’s right. She’s always right. A few years from now when I’m finally holding that diploma, I know she’s still right. Even though lately, all I have is a slightly loose grip of hope that things will eventually be okay.

By the end of this, I know you’d probably realized that you’re not Rory Gilmore. Or Paris Geller. Or Alex Dunphy. Or Amy Santiago. Or whoever smart-ass-all-knowing creature you look up to. And even if you are, not going to one of your desired schools doesn’t make you less of a person and more of a failure. 

The post <b> Didn’t get into your dream school? Here’s a reality check: You’re not Rory Gilmore. </b> appeared first on WE THE PVBLIC.

Source: we the pvblic