- Joined
- Sep 23, 2015
- Messages
- 1
- Reaction score
- 12
Dear Admissions Committees,
I wish I could tell you what it felt like to be rejected.
I wish I could tell you what it felt like
to lose sleep and relationships
to study, volunteer, and spend nights in the lab
to sacrifice everything
knowing one day
it would be worth it
medicine was a calling, not a career
I wish I could tell you what it felt like to package myself up in a box labeled FRAGILE
to ship myself out with my story
and tell you things I never told others
to wake up every damn day for a year
hoping I’d be good enough
to receive interview after interview
but to then be waitlisted
passed over
damaged goods
I wish I could tell you what it felt like to admit you didn’t want me
to tell my friends and family
the ones I stood up
for the library
the ones I ignored
to take a practice MCAT on Christmas
instead of sitting at the table
which has since
shrunken
I wish I could tell you what it feels to like to reapply
with the shadow of last time
to have done more things to show you I’m worth it
that I deserve to be given a chance
when I’m really still the same
I wish I could tell you what it feels like to want to be a doctor
the way I want to be a doctor
with a thirst
to be privy to stories I could not imagine living
to connect behind the facades we create
to guide lives through pain and into health
to alleviate their suffering
and potentially my own
I wish I could give up.
I wish I didn’t need your approval.
I wish my future did not depend on you.
But I can’t.
And I do.
And It does.
I wish I could tell you what it felt like to be rejected.
I wish I could tell you what it felt like
to lose sleep and relationships
to study, volunteer, and spend nights in the lab
to sacrifice everything
knowing one day
it would be worth it
medicine was a calling, not a career
I wish I could tell you what it felt like to package myself up in a box labeled FRAGILE
to ship myself out with my story
and tell you things I never told others
to wake up every damn day for a year
hoping I’d be good enough
to receive interview after interview
but to then be waitlisted
passed over
damaged goods
I wish I could tell you what it felt like to admit you didn’t want me
to tell my friends and family
the ones I stood up
for the library
the ones I ignored
to take a practice MCAT on Christmas
instead of sitting at the table
which has since
shrunken
I wish I could tell you what it feels to like to reapply
with the shadow of last time
to have done more things to show you I’m worth it
that I deserve to be given a chance
when I’m really still the same
I wish I could tell you what it feels like to want to be a doctor
the way I want to be a doctor
with a thirst
to be privy to stories I could not imagine living
to connect behind the facades we create
to guide lives through pain and into health
to alleviate their suffering
and potentially my own
I wish I could give up.
I wish I didn’t need your approval.
I wish my future did not depend on you.
But I can’t.
And I do.
And It does.
Last edited: