Truthfully I had no idea that I had an arch-nemesis until today. It wasn't until I spent hours upon hours desperately trying to tell you where Waldo is that I became aware of its presence. Allow me to explain...I pondered and brainstormed upon his possible whereabouts for days until I finally sat down, rather confidently, to confide in you all my insights into the ever-elusive Waldo's location. Yet despite the fact that I had enough ideas to write the essay four different ways, the words simply would not come to me. After going through the stages--denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and, finally, acceptance-- I recognized the familiar feeling. While one may be tempted to call it writer's block I don't think that's the right word for what I experience. That dreaded empty white space extends far beyond the page on my computer screen.
"Nicole, the other coaches and I don't understand you."
'Why?'
"We see you do such special, special things on the field but sometimes it seems like you can't execute the simple things."
'What do you mean simple things?'
"Like trap the ball with the furthest foot, for example."
"C'mon Nicole say something. Let us pick your brain. You're so reserved and quiet we can't understand you. Say something."
'I guess...'
"No don't guess. You either know or you don't."
"Well? C'mon let us pick your brain. Say something. Please."
"I guess I don't know."
"Alright. I understand."
"Okay thank you. See you tomorrow coach."
I left the field that day the fastest I ever had, my head spinning with all the things I wish I had said to him. To this day thinking back on it it still frustrates me that I stood there with my mouth legitimately half open but unable to get my words out. That inability to speak my mind has become a common theme in my life. I experienced the same frustration as I sat in front of my computer with a head full of ideas and an empty page before me. The seemingly two very different occurrences are in essence the same thing, and those are only two examples of something fairly regular for me. I've been told my entire life that the impression you make on someone is tremendously important. I'm so conscious of the effect my words may have that, more often than not, I decide not to say anything. I never want to say the wrong thing and make a bad impression. The irony lies in the fact that in trying trying to avoid that, my silence makes an impression stronger than my words probably ever would have.
My arch-nemesis is my speechlessness. I have to thank Waldo for opening my eyes to it because now that I know about it I can overcome it. I want my thoughts to be heard. I want everyone to know that I'm not quiet, reserved, shy, soft-spoken, or anything else that they may have thought. I want to grow and speak and let people formulate their own impressions of me, free of worry about what they may be. In fact, I think I'm already halfway there--I filled up the white space.
**It's only my first draft! Thank you for your help.
Hi! I am also applying to UChicago!
Really cool twist of two topics! First, get rid of your contractions. Second, perhaps devote a bit more of your last paragraph to the ways you would like to attack the speechlessness (and maybe throw in why UChicago is a great place to do that).
I really liked the idea behind this essay, and your execution is pretty solid, too. I would try to get rid of the conversational and extra-unnecessary parts, such as "Allow me to explain...," because phrases like that don't serve much of a point aside from story-telling, which isn't particularly desirable IMO.
Otherwise, I think you do an excellent job illustrating your arch-nemesis. Good luck!
