About those rejection emails

I am going to make the assumption I am not getting accepted to grad school this year. With four out of five rejections in, I think I can bet on the final rejection coming at some point in the next week or two. Or perhaps I should assume by their silence that it won’t happen this year.

If I were a traditional college student, I think this number of rejections would hurt a lot more. Early-twenties me would have taken the rejection much harder, which would have fueled my imposter syndrome in a way that perhaps would have made me reconsider writing. The self-deprecation of my skills was stronger then.

At twenty-seven I’m taking these rejection emails in stride. I can make some guesses as to why I’m being told no. My research subject was too odd. My research was too specific. My research wasn’t targeting the right school. I can’t art for the one MFA program I applied to. You know what, though? That’s fine.

I keep reminding myself that things happen for a reason.

I’ll sulk into some video games and comic books this weekend, maybe even treat myself to some Mr. Macs or tacos.

And then I’ll dive head first into the job applications. I’ll talk to some professors about their thoughts on my next steps, and see what advice they can give me.

I’ve been rejected from things before, and I’ve learned that I function best by taking my negative energy and putting it towards something new.

We’ll see what I make this time.

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Sometimes

Sometimes I think about what I want to do after graduation. I’ve watched a lot of friends graduate from university, and now that I’m entering my senior year, I’m torn with what I want to do. And maybe its not that I’m torn, its that there’s so many choices to make.

I think about grad school, and where I want to go. Do I want to pursue working in Residence Life? Or should I look at something else in higher education?

I think about looking for a job and taking a year or two before going back to school.

Do I want to foster animals or figure out how to buy a zoo? Or work at an animal sanctuary for dogs?

And then I think about moving to a foreign country. Would I go to Spain, England, Germany? Or venture to Romania where I have family via my step-dad? At least right now, I’d want to start in Belgium.

grand place,
Photo cred: Me. Grand Place, Brussels, Belgium.

Belgium doesn’t always have the best reputation. At least lately there have been a lot of things that have happened there. But it was a place that won my heart two years ago.

I met some amazing people there, and learned so much. The city was beautiful. And I always want to go back.

I don’t know what I’d do. Like everything else in my life, I’d figure it out. I moved across the country, I think I could manage.

Or how crazy would it be to go volunteer in a foreign country? I’m probably not even remotely the best candidate. But I’ve always loved to help people. It was a huge part of my life from middle school to before I moved out to New Hampshire. Volunteering is what I did.

Figuring out my life after SNHU is what this summer is going to be about. And that thought is both exciting and terrifying.