The fine line between flattering and dejecting: Being Waitlisted
On February 1st 2019, I finished a personal statement for a summer health program that took me more than a month to feel extremely confident about. It took a week to write, then two weeks of rereading, editing, more rereading, and more editing. And just when I’ve exhausted my brain to make more changes, I realized that I shouldn’t be the only one working to make this personal statement amazing. I thought some feedback from professionals would benefit me; thus, I visited numerous writing tutors and coaches on campus, which took about another week. This was the most work I’ve put in for an essay. Rightfully so. This essay was going to serve as the megaphone I will use to announce my arrival in the health industry. Even then, I wasn’t 100% confident about it, prompting me to just sit on it for another week, hoping more ideas will come to mind (and also just in case I come across some mistakes I may have missed before).
On February 8th 2019, I completed the rest of the requirements and submitted my application to the schools I thought were perfect to spend my summer working for and gaining experience in: Columbia University, University of California, Los Angeles, and Western University of Health Sciences. Some people told me I should reconsider the schools I applied for and aim for the ones with less notoriety, where I’d also get the same experience, to increase my chances of admission because everybody—most more qualified than I since I’m a psychology major with no science classes on my transcript— would also be aiming for the schools I selected. Being stubborn, justified by my ego and confidence, I decided not to listen. If I’m going to do something, I’m going to do what I want, where I want, the way I want to. A medical-filled-summer in an ivy league in New York, or an amazing school in Westwood, or a medical-focused school in Pomona were clear cut better than any of the other options.
Confident that I’ve done everything that is within my power, the hardest part is now to follow: waiting. My future depended on each respective school’s admission decision-makers.
On March 15th, I found out that I’ve been waitlisted. I was told to check back on March 20th for any updates regarding the status of my application. From the 15th to the 20th, I thought of nothing but the status of my application. I doubted myself. I thought maybe I should’ve listened and applied to other schools instead. I became my own devil’s advocate, countering the argument I’m building to support the idea that I’ll get off of the waitlist. I was simultaneously my own hype man and critic at the same time. It was crazy.
On March 20th , the status page greeted me with three words: “Pick a school.” Ha. I wish. Instead, I read “site is full”. I knew it. I expected it. Disappointing but not surprising. The only way I could’ve gotten in was if enough people turned down the opportunity offered to them that we all aspired and worked hard to get. I knew from the start that the chances were slim. Though always optimistic, I also remained realistic. After all, I didn’t think anyone would turn down any of those universities. Nonetheless, instead of moping, I began looking for other similar summer programs, leading me to Stanford. With a very similar application, a similar process took place.
On March 22nd, I finished the application.
On April 28th, I found out I was waitlisted… again. No big deal as this was not my first time being waitlisted (although I’m definitely hoping that this is the last).
On June 1st, I found out that I didn’t get in. And just like the first time it happened, disappointing but not surprising.
Similar schools, similar programs, similar process, similar results. The tale of two applications.
After these delayed rejections, I took some time to think about where I stand with what’s happened to my summer goals and plans. I reflected deeply to pinpoint exactly how I felt.
As a psychology major with no science classes to show for in my transcript at the time, simply getting waitlisted by two very competitive summer health programs seemed like a major win. I felt like the personal statement that I worked vigorously for accomplished exactly what I intended it to. I also felt a tremendous amount of indebtedness to my professor who I know for sure wrote me a raving recommendation that I know I can only aspire to live up to. On the surface, everything seemed like it was a win… Except that, of course, it wasn’t.
I didn’t apply for a moral admission. I didn’t apply to feel like my personal statement was enough. I didn’t apply to waste my professor’s time with a letter of recommendation that didn’t go anywhere. I definitely didn’t apply to get waitlisted. I aimed to receive medical experience and knowledge but instead, learned a life lesson that I’m now sharing.
Getting waitlisted is like being the understudy to the main character of a play.
Getting waitlisted is like being kept on a hook by someone you admire because they’re aiming for who they desire.
Both scenarios are equally, potentially, rewarding and demoralizing.
There’s plenty of ways to describe it but to put it simply and succinctly:
Getting waitlisted means that you’re good, but not good enough, although definitely good enough to warrant a second look and avoid a direct rejection.
Getting waitlisted can either be the symbol that there’s still a chance or the second reminder that you simply have to get better. It can be a ray of hope or a glimpse into despair. If you get in, no one will know you were a second choice. If you don’t, no one will laugh at you.
It truly is the fine line between flattering and dejecting. It’s bittersweet to say the least.
For me, however, it was neither. I took it for what it was: a delayed rejection. I then used it as an inspiration to keep improving to guarantee that I will never get waitlisted ever again.
To me, getting waitlisted means to keep pushing to become the first person they’d want. If ever I do get waitlisted again, I’m hoping it leads to a new first: getting off of it.
You can be disappointed. You can be mad. Ultimately, everybody should be content because I believe that opportunities go to those who they’re meant for.
If you ever get waitlisted, don’t feel inadequate. Take the “no”, use it as fuel, and move on to the next one.
No one should feel like a second-choice but in order for it to happen, you have to be willing to dedicate yourself to be more than good enough.
Be inspired. Feel empowered. There’s no such thing as winning and losing… it’s winning and learning.