Hey, I have 3 days to improve this common app essay, so any help is much appreciated.
Please be brutally honest.
Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
It was 2014, and before me stood 500 people. I was the lead in the annual school performance, Danny Zuko, from Grease, and I had everything I needed to fit the role - the leather jacket, the slick black hair, the outgoing personality - apart from one minor asset.
The voice. I didn't have the voice one would expect the lead role of a musical to have.
I had spent months preparing, hours on end, learning lines, practising dance moves, and trying ever so hard to perfect my voice. But my attempts were futile, and no amount of hours singing in the shower could prepare me for what came next.
My nasal, brittle voice pierced the air as I twirled around the stage in front of an army of strangers and peers alike. The stage lights glaring, I embraced the sea of tense cold stares emerging from the audience. Gazing into the distance, I could vaguely make out the look of confusion and disappointment spread across my parent's face, and by the end of the performance I had successfully disappointed them and become the laughing stock of the school.
I don't regret a single thing.
In fact, in weeks leading up to the performance I was given ample opportunity to withdraw my role as the lead and avoid embarrassing myself. But I refused.
While others saw a deluded 17 year old kid screech on a stage and disappoint his parents, I saw an opportunity to breach the confines of my comfort zone and force myself to overcome feelings of fear and self-doubt.
And to be completely honest I think that's what makes me different.
Rather than viewing the event as a failure, I saw it as a blessing, an opportunity to grow, not physically, but mentally. The fact that I couldn't sing was all the more reason to do it in front of hundreds of people, because what better way is there to habituate myself with challenge and discomfort, than to do something I have no experience with. I opened myself up to sheer embarrassment and smiled, knowing that for every second on that stage, I was growing more comfortable with taking risks and leaving my comfort zone.
And I throughly believe this obsession with leaving my comfort zone - however unhealthy it may seem - forms a centre-point of my identity. It has played a crucial role in every activity and every social interaction I have ever undertaken.
It's allowed me the eloquence to be assertive, to question and criticise the opinions of others, and to eventually rise up to establish and lead Bahrain's first Debate Society.
It's provided me the strength to pursue powerlifting, to push, pull and press higher numbers, and to to eventually work up to a 400 pound deadlift.
It's given me the courage to independently travel to New York, engage in a finance internship, and adapt to a real world working environment.
And it's rendered me the sight needed to see value in a performance when others saw none.
My experiences taught me a lot, but above all, they made me realise that my future success will come down to my willingness to welcome pain and learn to adapt to new stimulus. I know now that whether I want to be the next Steve Jobs, or the next Nicki Minaj, having the confidence to leave my comfort zone will be imperative to my success.
One thing is for sure. Without this confidence I wouldn't be a pursuing a higher education in a country thousands of miles away from my hometown, but more importantly, without this confidence, I wouldn't be 'me'.
Please be brutally honest.
Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
It was 2014, and before me stood 500 people. I was the lead in the annual school performance, Danny Zuko, from Grease, and I had everything I needed to fit the role - the leather jacket, the slick black hair, the outgoing personality - apart from one minor asset.
The voice. I didn't have the voice one would expect the lead role of a musical to have.
I had spent months preparing, hours on end, learning lines, practising dance moves, and trying ever so hard to perfect my voice. But my attempts were futile, and no amount of hours singing in the shower could prepare me for what came next.
My nasal, brittle voice pierced the air as I twirled around the stage in front of an army of strangers and peers alike. The stage lights glaring, I embraced the sea of tense cold stares emerging from the audience. Gazing into the distance, I could vaguely make out the look of confusion and disappointment spread across my parent's face, and by the end of the performance I had successfully disappointed them and become the laughing stock of the school.
I don't regret a single thing.
In fact, in weeks leading up to the performance I was given ample opportunity to withdraw my role as the lead and avoid embarrassing myself. But I refused.
While others saw a deluded 17 year old kid screech on a stage and disappoint his parents, I saw an opportunity to breach the confines of my comfort zone and force myself to overcome feelings of fear and self-doubt.
And to be completely honest I think that's what makes me different.
Rather than viewing the event as a failure, I saw it as a blessing, an opportunity to grow, not physically, but mentally. The fact that I couldn't sing was all the more reason to do it in front of hundreds of people, because what better way is there to habituate myself with challenge and discomfort, than to do something I have no experience with. I opened myself up to sheer embarrassment and smiled, knowing that for every second on that stage, I was growing more comfortable with taking risks and leaving my comfort zone.
And I throughly believe this obsession with leaving my comfort zone - however unhealthy it may seem - forms a centre-point of my identity. It has played a crucial role in every activity and every social interaction I have ever undertaken.
It's allowed me the eloquence to be assertive, to question and criticise the opinions of others, and to eventually rise up to establish and lead Bahrain's first Debate Society.
It's provided me the strength to pursue powerlifting, to push, pull and press higher numbers, and to to eventually work up to a 400 pound deadlift.
It's given me the courage to independently travel to New York, engage in a finance internship, and adapt to a real world working environment.
And it's rendered me the sight needed to see value in a performance when others saw none.
My experiences taught me a lot, but above all, they made me realise that my future success will come down to my willingness to welcome pain and learn to adapt to new stimulus. I know now that whether I want to be the next Steve Jobs, or the next Nicki Minaj, having the confidence to leave my comfort zone will be imperative to my success.
One thing is for sure. Without this confidence I wouldn't be a pursuing a higher education in a country thousands of miles away from my hometown, but more importantly, without this confidence, I wouldn't be 'me'.