As I sit here drafting yet another college essay, the pressure feels suffocating. I scroll through r/ApplyingToCollege (A2C) for guidance, hoping to find some reassurance or clarity, but instead, I feel an unsettling knot in my stomach. The subreddit, which started as a space to help students like me navigate the convoluted college admissions process, now seems like a place where stress feeds on itself. And yet, I can’t stop checking it.
There’s something comforting about knowing you’re not alone in this mess—that hundreds of thousands of other teenagers are staring at the same Common App portal, wrestling with the same doubts. But there’s also something incredibly toxic about it. A2C has become a magnifying glass for the absurdity and heartbreak of applying to college in the United States.
The Allure and Anxiety of A2C
A2C feels like both a lifeline and a trap. On the one hand, it’s a space to ask questions, share advice, and laugh at memes that remind you you’re not the only one struggling. On the other hand, it’s a stage for the kind of perfectionism that is breaking so many of us. You see posts from kids with 1600 SAT scores, perfect GPAs, and Olympic-level extracurriculars—asking if they’re good enough for Stanford. I see those posts and feel like I’m drowning.
In theory, A2C should help. But it also amplifies this culture of overachievement, where worth is measured by how many AP classes you’ve crammed into your schedule or how many prestigious internships you’ve landed by age 16. And when you don’t have those stats, you start to wonder: Did I waste my high school years? Am I just not good enough?
It’s terrifying to admit that I’ve started measuring my self-worth based on how I think an admissions officer might see me.
The Cult of HYPSM
The obsession with “HYPSM” (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Stanford, MIT) is perhaps the most glaring problem. These schools dominate conversations on A2C. They’ve become the ultimate symbols of success, the endgame for so many applicants. I won’t pretend I’m immune—I’ve fantasized about getting into one of them, imagining the validation that would bring. Like who doesn’t want to go to those schools? This is literally every teenager’s first steps to obtain The American Dream.
But it’s not real OK? It’s a mirage. The reality is that getting into a HYPSM school is not a golden ticket to happiness or success, and yet, we treat it like it is. We treat students who get accepted like demigods and pity those who don’t, as if their lives are over. This mindset reduces the college experience—and even our lives—to a binary: you either win or you lose.
The truth is, HYPSM is not the right fit for everyone. These schools are incredibly rigorous, hypercompetitive environments. I’ve had to remind myself that just because I can try to get into a top school doesn’t mean I should. But it’s hard to shake that little voice saying, If you don’t at least try, what does that say about you?
Overachievement at a Cost
In chasing these arbitrary ideals, many of us have lost something vital: joy. High school should be a time to explore, to figure out who you are and what you care about. Instead, it’s become a sprint to check every box on some imaginary admissions rubric.
I see it in myself. I took up certain activities not because I loved them, but because they would look good on my application. I spent countless hours crafting a “spike”—that thing admissions officers say makes you stand out—because being well-rounded isn’t enough anymore. Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing things for the simple pleasure of doing them.
It’s exhausting. It’s hollow. And I know I’m not alone. So many of us are running on fumes, trying to prove we’re special enough for schools that admit less than 5% of their applicants.
Facing Rejection
I know rejection is coming. Statistically, it’s almost certain. And yet, I’m terrified of it. What will it mean if I don’t get into the schools I’ve dreamed about? Will people see me differently? Will I see myself differently?
The thing I’ve had to remind myself is this: rejection doesn’t mean failure. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t good enough. It just means the system is flawed. College admissions are a crapshoot, plain and simple. Decisions are made based on factors I can’t control—like institutional priorities, donor influence, or even just how someone felt on a given day.
But logic doesn’t always soothe the sting of rejection. There’s a part of me that feels like all these years of hard work won’t mean anything if they don’t culminate in that one coveted acceptance letter.
Finding Perspective
If there’s one thing I’m trying to hold onto through this process, it’s perspective. The college I attend won’t define my future—I will. It’s not about where I go, but what I do when I get there.
And maybe that’s the hardest part of this whole process: remembering that I’m more than a GPA or a list of extracurriculars. I’m a person, not a résumé.
So here’s what I’m telling myself (and maybe you, too, if you’re reading this): It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to want to go to a prestigious school. But don’t let this process steal your joy or make you forget your worth.
Because at the end of the day, college is just a step—not a finish line. And you, dear reader, are so much more than an acceptance letter.
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