It looks like this:
You can’t come close to deciding on a topic and so you never get started.
You have topics to choose from, but they all seem cliche and cringy.
You start to write, but everything comes out sounding like a Hallmark Card or like some overblown diary entry.
You want to delete every single word. Like, you want to print it out just so you can set fire to it and then smash the computer you wrote it on to destroy all evidence that you were ever connected with this horrible pile of trash.
If this doesn’t sound like you: congratulations.
If this does sound like you, even a little: don’t worry; you’re not crazy.
An overwhelming majority of people feel this way about the college essay. But just because you might feel that way now doesn’t mean you have to keep feeling that way.
It comes from this:
Have you ever had a big test or a major project due and you couldn’t stop freaking out about it?
Ever had a game or match or performance that was just too big a deal to get out of your head?
Ever been both excited about a date, but also so nervous you thought you might vomit?
This part of being human is not ideal, but it is being human.
See, in all those examples, we know, intellectually, that one single test or game or date will never show how hard we’ve worked or how talented we are or how much we care.
But that doesn’t change the fact that there’s increased pressure on one specific point in a much broader timeline. Things feel like the stakes are higher and, as humans, we respond with worry or anxiety or panic or fear or anger or (likely) some combination. This is especially true when it seems like it’s in our power to determine whether it goes well or not (even when it’s not actually in our power at all).
“With the college essay, everything else is in the books. The only thing left is the essay.”
With the college essay, just about everything else that’s going into your application is done and in the books:
Transcripts for grades 9, 10, and 11? Done.
Long-term commitments to sports, clubs, or causes? Done.
Impressions left on your recommendation letter writers? Done (mostly).
The thing that is entirely in your hands is the essay.
What this means is that, as people, we funnel all the anxiety we’re feeling about the application process as a whole into one piece of writing.
We don’t need to do that; we just do it because it’s there and because it’s all we have left.
It interferes this way:
Normally, the nerves we feel are just our way of getting through a tough time. We feel it, we manage it (hopefully), we talk about it (hopefully), and we come out the other side.
The tricky thing about writing, though, is that the nerves get in the way of A. the writing itself and B. being able to recognize whether we have hit the mark or not.
Basically, when nerves pour into writing, the writing becomes scattered because our brains are scattered, the writing becomes meek because our brains are unsure, the writing becomes vague because our brains are trying to cover everything as preventive defense.
“Instead of being clear-eyed and confident, the writing reads as frantic or robotic. That’s not you.”
The result is an essay that isn’t really you and certainly not your best because it’s traveling through a prism of worry. Instead of being the clear-eyed and confident self you can be, it’s (often) reading as frantic or robotic. And that’s not you.
It can be helped like this:
First, accept that this is just what people do. You’re a person, so give yourself some space to freak out a little from time to time. But don’t let it take over. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, admit it and give yourself ten minutes or so to do just that. Then, get back to work.
Second, accept that you’re probably a pretty bad judge about whether the words you’ve written are really doing what you want or need them to do. When we write emotionally, the words carry how we’re feeling in that moment. What you need, though, are words that carry who you are in the broader term. So find some people you trust and tell them what you’re hoping to hit. Let them read it and push them to tell you whether a stranger would get what you’re aiming at. Oh, and make sure at least one of the people you ask is a person who will tell you the truth no matter what.
Third, accept that our nervous selves second (or triple) guess what we thought was a good idea. Make a plan for the essay that works with everything else in your application, but then stick to that plan. If you want to make changes, make sure you use step two before you reinvent the wheel.
Want help making a plan? Contact me here to set up an appointment to get started.