College application season is one of the most stressful times in high school. Everyone warns you that it will be intense, and they’re not wrong. You are expected to juggle classes, extracurriculars, responsibilities, and somehow distill your entire personality, achievements, and dreams into a series of essays, forms, and decisions.

It’s overwhelming. But in the middle of the chaos, there is one thing that’s easy to forget: be gracious.

Yes, it’s exhausting. The questions, the constant advice, the pressure to stand out. You might feel like snapping when someone asks where you’re applying for the third time in a day. But most of the people around you — your friends, parents, teachers, coaches — are just trying to help. They may not always say the right thing, but their support is real. Don’t turn them into targets. Let their love and their willingness to help fuel your work, not frustrate it.

I say this because I’ve been there. I made it through, but it was not pretty.

I started writing in June, the summer before senior year. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Some people told me my essays were terrible. Others sugarcoated and said they were amazing. A few said, “This doesn’t sound like you at all.” I hit wall after wall. I cried. I doubted everything. And then I cried again.

Everyone kept telling me to “find my voice.” But what did that even mean? I was drowning in essay prompts, metaphors that didn’t land, and constant feedback that only made me feel more confused. I had people trying to help, trying to refine my ideas and push me forward, but I just felt stuck.

Then one day I sat down with my mom and asked her a question I had never thought to ask: Who am I?

She started telling me stories. Little things from when I was a kid, moments she remembered that defined who I was to her. She reminded me of what I had overcome, what made me strong, and the qualities she saw in me that I couldn’t see in myself.

In those moments, I didn’t find a perfect essay topic. But I found clarity. I realized how grateful I was for her, and I started truly listening. Her stories gave me a direction I hadn’t had before. And slowly, I started to write in a way that felt real.

If you’re just beginning this process, here’s what I want you to know.

Start early, even if you don’t feel ready. Don’t wait for the perfect idea. Just write. Your first drafts might be messy or confusing — that’s okay. Writing is how you figure things out. The more you do it, the closer you’ll get to something real.

Get organized from the start. Make a college list, even if it’s long or full of maybes. Create a spreadsheet. Keep track of deadlines, essays, fees, and requirements. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but a little structure will save you from a lot of stress later.

Lean on your support system, but be selective. Some feedback will help you find your voice. Some won’t. Know who makes you feel more confident and who leaves you second-guessing yourself. Ask for help, but trust yourself too.

Be careful how much you share with friends. If comparison motivates you, great. But if it starts to feel like pressure, give yourself space. You don’t have to tell everyone everything. Stay focused on your path, your story, your progress.

And take care of yourself. This process is exhausting. Step away when you need to. Get some air. Talk to people who remind you that there’s more to life than college apps. Rest isn’t slacking — it’s survival.

Yes, this will be hard. But it’s also an opportunity to learn about yourself, to grow, and to show up as who you truly are. Let it challenge you, but don’t let it change your heart. Be kind, stay grounded, and trust the process. You’re doing something difficult — and doing it well.