Joke’s On You
“You better have a back-up plan”— “You’ll never get in there”—“You need a safe school.”
Ahh—the words straight from the mouth of my guidance counselor when I told her I wanted to go to Penn State. Damn! Did I piss in her cheerios or something? The person who was supposed to be a source of encouragement and support basically told me I wasn’t good enough. Talk about a shot straight to the gut. Ouch! Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about honesty and hate when things are sugar-coated or unrealistic. But this was different. Those words just didn’t sit well with me. I was 16-years old with my life all planned out; then someone has the audacity to stomp my hopes and dreams right there and then, before I even really got going. You’ve got to be kidding me. My guidance counselor clearly didn’t know me well. The words, "No" and "You Can’t" were sounds that I loathed. They reverberated in my ears, like nails down a chalkboard. It was like an immediate challenge, regardless of the situation. So my answer was always—CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.
Let me take a step back and better explain why my guidance counselor had little faith in me attending Penn State. As a general rule when applying to colleges, you only apply to the schools where you at least meet their minimum requirements. Duh, right?! These typically included GPA and standardized test scores, such as the SAT and ACT. I distinctly remember the minimum SAT score being 1250 for Penn State. I don’t remember the GPA requirement but I knew that wasn’t an issue as I was an overachieving, perfectionist. But back to the SAT—so I took the test twice, like many of my classmates. My score was horrendous the first time. I whopping 950. Yep, you read that correctly. If you couldn’t at least crack 1,000, you were considered dumb. Well, call me dumb! I beat myself up over it—like hardcore. I vowed to take it again and get the score I needed. To my surprise, I had the same exact score the second time around. Another 950. Unreal. I was devastated. My GPA was a 4.25. I took Honors classes and college classes. How was this even possible? Maybe my guidance counselor was onto something. I decided to apply anyways. What did I have to lose? I guess my $65 application fee and a blow to my ego. Oh, well—I had something to prove.
I filled out the long application, wrote the personal statement and sent the check. All I had left was hope and a prayer. It was just a waiting period. I applied to other schools in the mean time. Also, larger and some prestigious universities, but they weren’t Penn State. I wouldn’t have been upset if I landed at any one of them but my goal was to be a Nittany Lion. My heart was set on it. I just didn’t have the test scores to back me and prove my academic success up to this point. But I wasn’t afraid of that. I was confident that my GPA along with my personal statement, would speak to my passion to succeed in life! I was determined. Driven. Passionate. Unstoppable.
As a side note—I had already been accepted to numerous other universities and even offered full-ride scholarships to continue my soccer career. That wasn’t good enough for me. I needed to get in on my own accord, not because of my athletic ability. That was just an added bonus. Plus by this point, I had already decided that I was not continuing my career at the next level.
From listening to other classmates of mine, I knew what the envelope of pure elation looked like. It wasn’t the standard size envelope that a single letter would come in, but rather a large envelope consisting of a packet of papers, indicating a successful acceptance. I waited. And waited. And waited. Some schools were super fast with their decisions and others, like Penn State, were not. I feared being potentially waitlisted—that wasn’t uncommon for Penn State. I had already been offered acceptance into Purdue University and was ready to pull the trigger on that. But I was holding out. I checked the mail every day, because I wanted to be the first to know. I didn’t tell my mom what the size of the letters meant, but I’m sure she had a pretty good idea.
I think it was sometime in November when that glorious piece of mail arrived. It screamed ACCEPTED based on what I had knew! It was true. I was so excited to read the letter—“Dear Lydia, Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Pennsylvania State University. Be prepared to pay us for the rest of your life. The End.” It may have been worded slightly different, but I read between the lines. I mean, they weren’t wrong. I’m still paying. That’s what out of state tuition for 2.5 years gets you—hefty loans!
Although I continue paying on my student loans from a university I had no business attending, according to my guidance counselor, I’m thankful for my determined mindset. I could have easily just accepted that I wasn’t good enough. But I didn’t believe that to be true. My gosh—my work ethic as a teenager was like none other. Some days I wish I still had it. In my mind, I knew I had what it took to be successful and there was no way I was allowing a standardized test score determine my intelligence level or decide my future. No way in Hell! I might also add that I ended up taking the ACT, as other schools I applied to were seeking those scores instead. My result was far more acceptable and further validated my impending success.
If I would have followed the advice of my guidance counselor, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Who knows where I would be? I am not suggesting that you go out and make willy nilly decisions, because having realistic expectations is important. I do however, believe in challenging yourself and others if the need arises. Do not accept someone else’s plan for your life. After all, it’s not their life—it’s your life! You’ve heard the saying, “Opinions are like assholes—Everyone has them and they all stink.” #TRUTH. Take it for what it's worth. One of my greatest accomplishments to this day, is proving all the nay-sayers WRONG! There is no greater feeling than that.
So go ahead—tell me “No” or that “I can’t.” Then grab a beer, sit back and enjoy the show. The joke’s on you!