My fingers have a favorite key. It’s the one that makes everything disappear, the delete button. It’s a cute, comfortable, non-committal square with tidy corners and a crisp click. It has one clear job: to erase yet another vague essay prompt I struggle to develop. I’ve lost count of hours spent staring at a blank screen I avoid by a myriad of tactics, including hiding under my sheets, doom-scrolling Instagram, and cyber-stalking sales. I promise myself tomorrow will be different, yet my behavior is on repeat. I used to blame it on writer’s block… you know, that classic blank-page stare-off.
What is the problem? Is it a lack of ideas? Inspiration? Motivation? In fact, I have discovered it’s a lack of readiness. When a college asks what I’ll contribute to campus, can I just say, “Check back in a few years?” I’m still piecing together who I am. I’m still a work in progress with plenty of growing up to do. Right now, life feels more like a rough draft, scribbled over, erased, rewritten, never quite landing on what is being asked of me, which is a final version, or rather, a final vision. I’m still learning new things about myself each day—what excites me, what challenges me, what makes me feel like I belong? Everything! I still have so many questions about who I’ll become and what will capture my brain as it sets. But now, today, at seventeen, these answers remain unclear. They certainly don’t quite fit neatly into a 100-word supplemental piece.
Supplemental essays feel like a wild guessing game. It is impossible to make a promise about what I’ll contribute to a college next year when I’m in the middle of discovering my own identity today. I’m navigating who I am in real-time. I don’t have all the answers because I’m still evolving. The prompts are open-ended, and I stare at them, unsure of what angle to take. It’s not clear whether I’m being asked to take a deep dive into my soul or mere snapshot of my interests, and the ambiguous tone renders one bewildered on crafting a response that is both relevant and impressive.
Right now, as I find myself in a constant state of change and growth, shifting from the version of myself to the next, I will do my best to focus on my current enthusiasm, passions, and sparks of interest, knowing all the while that what fires me up today may not hold the same weight as tomorrow. I’m still trying on different dreams and ambitions, figuring out which fits me best. How can I sell you my future self when I’m still figuring out my present self?
So, I continue to wrestle the blinking cursor on my blank screen, my delete button my constant companion. Each prompt is a puzzle with too many pieces, and every attempt to fit them together seems to miss the mark. As I stumble through this labyrinth of self-discovery and essay drafts, I realize that I’m not just crafting a response; I’m navigating the foggy, ever-shifting terrain of my own becoming. If you’re looking for a finished product, you’ll have to wait. Right now, all I have to offer is a glimpse of the journey—a rough draft in progress, with each misstep and erased line leading me closer to who I’m meant to be.
