That particular Friday mirrored aspects of any other friday, including waking up, (late, as usual,) going to school and attempting to do classwork, eating a mediocre lunch, and talking with friends for 20 minutes after school, before getting in my semi functional Ford Fusion and heading home. But this day was accompanied by an underlying, heavy blanket of anxiety and uncertainty, as I was aware that what I found out this day that would alter my life forever.

Once I got home, I ignited a candle, which slowly started to emit a calming, rich fireplace scent. Sighing, I slid into bed and buried myself in the warm blankets, but my eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling and the line of multicolored lights strewn across the top of the wall, casting a vibrant, multI color hue on my room. According the rumors, today was the day the University of Michigan admissions department would start releasing decisions, AKA I would soon find out if the past four years would all be worth it, or if my dreams would be shattered. No pressure. These two outcomes had been haunting me since before I hit “submit” on my application, and over the months it had formed a tight coil in my chest, as I was consistently wavering over which outcome was more likely to become my reality. That day of revelation had come. I felt a sudden urge to check and see if I had received a decision, but hesitated. I decided to keep the cat in the box, and did what I always do when faced with difficult situations; I took a nap.

My dreams were a obscured blur, the only thing I could remember when I slowly awoke was feelings of anxiety, doubt, disappointment, accompanied with a nauseous feeling in my torso. Sitting myself up, the bed creaking, my eyes panned around my walls, coming to rest on my University of Michigan poster that I have had since I was little, the same poster I would look at whenever I felt a lack of motivation during one of the many times I felt discouraged throughout the application process. A sudden rush of determination overcame me. I was sick of waiting. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, paying no mind to my notifications, and went to my student portal. My thumb hesitated over the “application status” link. Once I clicked it, there would be no going back. I would finally have an answer to the question: “Did I do enough?” If not, I would be filled with “what ifs” for the next few months as I would attempt to come to terms with my failure. The same rush that brought me to this spot repeated itself, and my mind sharpened with focus. I clicked the link.

Congratulations. Congratulations. Congratulations. My eyes ran over that word, over and over, my breath caught in my chest. A feeling of shock came over me, my mind separating from my body, the only thing I could feel being my heart pounding in my chest. Congratulations. Congratulations. I had done it. All those years filled with stress, all-nighters, breakdowns, it had all been worth it. With tears in my eyes, a smile spread across my face. I had gotten into my dream school.