Last on the Waitlist — Counterpoint

By Cheryl Wang ‘23

I was last on the waitlist.

Or, at least, one of the last. After falling in love with Wellesley, I ED II-ed, got deferred, waitlisted, waitlisted again, and then finally placed on a late summer waitlist so obscure that I’ve yet to meet someone else with the same experience, save for my first-year roommate. I was in Norway in mid-July when I received the initial text from a Wellesley Admissions employee. I spent the rest of the week nervous that they would renege their offer because I had not filled in the portal (WiFi was sparse in Scandinavia). Somewhere out there, there is a video of me opening up my initial admission results in front of my friends. My smile drops, and I begin to cry. The video abruptly ends.

Coming to Wellesley has, at times, felt less like reality and more like a dream I could wake up from at any time. Even four years later, I find myself startled by the opportunities it has granted me. Professionally, Wellesley’s rigor has guaranteed me a job; socially, I have made lifelong friends. But most importantly, I have fallen in love with the well-rounded nature of a liberal arts education. Although I came in bemoaning what appeared to be erratic graduation requirements, I have grown to appreciate the very classes I once dismissed: art history, gender studies, social justice seminars, and psychology. I have found my strengths (computer science, writing long rambling articles, a rediscovered love of reading) and learned to let go of my weaknesses (economics, overthinking, and problematic viewpoints about race, sex, and queerness). In a way I never expected, I have become the person I hoped Wellesley would turn me into.

At the same time, Wellesley is an institution that sometimes feels like a never-ending competition. Conversations with friends turn into discussions about salary and job prospects. I am forever envious of other people with better internships and research opportunities, constantly perplexed as to why I am unable to finish a problem set at the same rate as some of my classmates. These are the moments when I have to take a step back, reevaluate the toxicity of the environment, and then take the steps necessary to address it. It is easy to feel that you are the dumbest person in the room and that you do not belong here. I assure you that these thoughts are false.

My first year in particular was plagued by imposter syndrome. Imagine that you know you were last on the waitlist. Every time you look at someone, you know that in some aspect, the Wellesley admissions team found them more worthy, that everyone here was chosen because of some excelling point on their application. You were the afterthought — squeezed in as a last-minute replacement. And even then, I knew I had an edge over other promising waitlist candidates because I ED-ed, rather than any reason based on merit.

Once, I told a friend about my situation and she placed a consoling hand on my shoulder and told me, “You’re pretty smart for a waitlist student!” I’m sure she was trying to be encouraging. Those words were anything but.

I’ve discovered that it’s much easier to apply for positions, jobs, and opportunities when you’re confident in yourself. There have been times when I’ve considered applying for something and hesitated long enough over the submit button for the intrusive thoughts to win. Wanting to join the Wellesley News in my first semester, I was instantly discouraged when I saw the number of people who appeared during the first open meeting. Instead of applying to write, I chose to copy-edit. I don’t regret my time as a copy-editor (I have many fond memories spent in the dimly lit hall by Tower first-floor), but I do regret my lack of drive. The News didn’t care about how precarious my acceptance to Wellesley was. Nobody did — except me.

It’s taken me years to shake off those thoughts, and by now it’s late enough that it hardly seems to matter. I can laugh about it. I can confidently tell the entire school that I was last on the waitlist, and I can also tell everyone that I’ve thrived at Wellesley. Last year, I was co-Editor-in-Chief of the very same newspaper I once thought I had no chance in joining. I'll be graduating with honors in a major I once told people I wasn’t smart enough for. And if I, of all people, have learned to reclaim my spot in this school, there's no reason you should doubt yourself either.

Cheryl Wang ‘23 (cw5) is a senior who chucked her imposter syndrome in the trash upon writing this article. From the October 2022 issue.