See Me

Is one person enough? Does it truly take only one person to believe in you? This has been on my mind all week. To say I have been stumped this week is an understatement. Once I believe that life is finally going my way something has to come up, bite me in the ass, and bring me back to reality. Let’s just say my ass is bit and back down to a dreary reality.

My problem is my dreams. I chase them out of impulse and rage, rather than thinking through the decisions I make and being in touch with reality. This was the case with my NYU Pre-College application. I rushed through the application and focused on the outcome rather than the process. I used an old excerpt of a non-edited, unfinished short story I had written, as my personal submission. All I saw was me walking along the streets of Greenwich Village with my backpack, as I hoped I would after I graduate this hell hole. But after checking my email on Wednesday, that was not going to be the case. They “regretted to inform me” that my ass was going to be home and not at my dream school. I saw the word “regret” immediately. I looked for the key word, rather than reading the entire letter because lets be honest, besides your name, everything else is reused for the other people left in the same predicament as you. My eyes began to well. Could my dream be crushed by a pre-college rejection letter? I saw myself as dumb, an inadequate writer, and a loser.

I constantly rely on the words of my first semester, creative writing teacher. He saw something in me that my English teacher that year hadn’t. I can’t blame her too much though, how is she supposed to see my passionate writing skills when she assigns me a critical lens essay on Frankenstein. But what hurt most was the way she treated her other students, recommending them for writing competitions or suggesting that they submit there work to magazines. When I emailed her a portfolio containing five of my poems all she could say was “wow, so good.” I was vulnerable, giving her my baby, my writing. Knowing what she said to the others, I felt defeated and inferior to my classmates. Was it my style that she didn’t care too much for or did she not see in me what she saw in the others? To this day I will never know the answer. I guess I was hoping for her and I to develop a relationship in the end. As an aspiring writer, having a good relationship with my English teacher was and still is very important to me. I admire someone who dedicates their life to literature and is able to read the same books for 20+ years without ripping their hair out. I wanted to impress her and show her that I am more than what I submit for a grade.

I wish I was still in creative writing. Knowing that someone is always there to root for you is the most comforting thing I have felt since I got a comfy, Christmas three years ago. He kept up with me and always made sure I was writing. Now that I lost my biggest supporter I feel like my writing is remaining static. How can I progress when I’m not exposed or pushed to do something new? I guess you can say I lose motivation easily, I see my dreams, but I’m always scared to move forward with the next step. I know no one, besides him, that has embarked on the same journey. I thought I was doing the right thing, putting myself out there and applying to programs, but all I faced was rejection, so can I actually do it?

It’s hard to know your worth because most think they they’re value is determined by others. I know who I am, intellectual, mature, and funny, but is it wrong for me to want others to see me in the same way?