The Problem With Getting What You Want

This blog, including photos and reference links, is available on my Medium, but the writing itself is available here for easy viewing.

All I wanted for Christmas in 2015 was an acceptance letter to my dream school — Northwestern University.

I’d spent months painstakingly researching admissions tips on Reddit, editing and re-editing essays with my college career counselor, and stacking myself up against my peers applying to the same school as me.

I’d analyzed every detail and even found myself imagining a team of strangers sitting in a room debating the merits of my application like they did in Tina Fey’s underrated 2013 film ‘Admission’.

To make it more anxiety-provoking, everyone knew I was applying. I’d suffered what was essentially a sports career-ending knee injury months before, and I couldn’t even walk into the trainer's office for physical therapy without someone asking if I’d heard back yet.

Then… the day finally came.

Northwestern released its Early Decision applications right on schedule on December 15th.

Even though I wasn’t medically cleared to even participate in PE after a backflip gone wrong, I still went to cheerleading practice all year. That day was no exception. I was sitting at an old desktop computer in my school’s library before a late-night practice when the email rolled in.

I got into my dream school… and I didn’t even know how to feel.

I was excited enough to tell everyone right away, but it almost didn’t seem real. I knew my family could never afford it outright, so I had to wait to see how much they gave me in financial aid.

For those who don’t know, the only way out of an early decision acceptance is to prove financial insecurity. My acceptance still hinged on yet another decision from Northwestern.

The yes felt only tentative. Like something that could still go away at any moment.

For some reason, the moment tied back to cheerleading again. I was at a competition supporting the rest of my team when another email came in. I got a scholarship of almost $70,000 a year in combination with the now-defunct National Achievement Scholarship.

And suddenly the American Dream became real for me.

I was going to my top choice school. And they didn’t just think I deserved to be there, they were willing to spend more money than my family’s house was worth for me to go there.

But then the strangest thing happened.

I missed more days of school in the month of January than I had in 3 years. I kept getting A’s on all my homework and I showed up for exams, so no one really said anything. Acceptances from every other college I applied to rolled in one by one, and it wasn’t all that exciting anymore.

Eventually, I stopped asking my parents to let me skip school and went back to class. But at the time, I never really knew why I suddenly lost interest in my main passion: school.

As I sat down to read People We Meet On Vacation for book club, a conversation between Poppy and Rachel early on in the book brought me back to this time of my life.

As Rachel listens to Poppy vent about how she has everything and she still wasn’t happy, she explains, “You had a ton of career goals, which gave you purpose. One by one, you met them. Et voilà: no purpose.”

To which Poppy replies ,“So I need new goals.”

People often say that not getting what you want is often a great stroke of luck. Not enough people say that sometimes getting what you want isn’t enough.

And I don’t mean that in a cynical or ungrateful way. I mean that to say one major achievement or accomplishment probably isn’t enough to fulfill you for a lifetime.

There’s always something new to learn, a feat to accomplish, or an area to grow as an individual. Tying your self-worth or identity on the outcome of one singular goal will always leave you unhappy. Because once you accomplish that goal, you’re still there. And you’ll need something to do.

The problem with getting what you want is that you’ll want more. You’ll need new goals. And that’s okay.

If I could go talk to my 17-year-old self, I’d tell her that. But I can’t time travel, so I’m telling the rest of you now in the hopes it reaches the people who need to hear this.