The following is a guest post by applicant Eldorado. Thanks for your contribution!
I remember standing in front of the fridge as a kid, peering in, hoping some food had magically appeared since my last two looks, just seconds before. Or pressing the elevator button twenty times, convinced urgency could bend physics. These are funny memories now. They taught me something about grace, patience, and the absurdity of wanting to control what I cannot. In fact, now I’m down to two button presses. One for activating the elevator, and the second for confirmation.
Fast forward to today. I have been through some life. I’ve worked on my personal statement through more iterations than my younger self would believe, met with my references in person, and done my best to honour everyone’s time. The application has been sent (activated). The burden is off my shoulders. Enter the anxiety of waiting.
It’s tempting to refresh the portal endlessly, imagining each click somehow conveys diligence (confirmation) or accelerates fate. For the things I really want, I plan, I get excited, and I try to anticipate every outcome. But that energy cannot replace the committee’s invisible work happening in the background. I like to believe no school would reveal that process, because then applicants could game the system, telling committees what they think they want to hear rather than what they need to know.
Here’s what I am choosing to trust: the committee is reading every word with intention. They receive over a thousand applicants, each with unique stories and contexts. No person is an island, and no forum tip or AI estimate can account for the human element, the multiple priorities, or the care each application receives. Even if you spend years tweaking your statements, nothing is guaranteed. That’s the most realistic thing I would tell my younger self.
From my communications background, I think about Social Exchange Theory here. Every time we reveal a layer of ourselves, the receiver reflects and responds. In this case, the school responds with an offer, a waitlist, a non-admit, or patience required. The waiting is part of the exchange.
Ask yourself: when was the last time you mailed a letter, especially one without tracking? Fortunately, there are still some processes you can’t put tracking numbers on. A student number may seem like a tracking number, but it doesn’t imply a pending decision. Some of the best things in life do not need one. Sigh… trusting the process is what makes it meaningful.
So to my younger self, and to any zealous applicant reading this: start with gratitude. Then, if you can’t help but be practical, remember that your hard work deserves its moment. Just like a marshmallow in the test, it’s better when you wait for it. Sometimes the waiting itself is the secret to more.
And let’s not forget the network servers while you’re at it. They’ve been handling our dopamine-driven clicks longer than we realize.
The time I jumped in the air and got stuck on purpose. Summer 2022, convocation for my Masters in Professional Communications. Two summers before law school would become the next mission. Hope doesn’t wait for permission. Sometimes you just have to get airborne and trust the landing.