Here is the prompt:
As Georgetown is a diverse community, the Admissions Committee would like to know more about you in your own words. Please submit a brief essay, either personal or creative, which you feel best describes you. (the website says about a page in length)
And here is my essay:
People always say teenagers think that they are invincible. Maybe it's due to a mix raging hormones and idealistic opinions, or even a combination between the first true sips of freedom and what seems like everlasting time. I never thought I was invincible; I never jumped anything on my bike, or even take the now infamous "cinnamon challenge," but I did view death as only a possibility, and not a reality. However, in the summer before my senior year in high school I was suddenly thrust awake from my invincible adolescent dream into the actuality of adulthood. At 17 I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease, a lifelong autoimmune condition in which my body relentlessly (and might I add foolishly) attacks my digestive system. In a single moment my cloak of teenage invincibility was yanked off, and I was standing there-suddenly naked and afraid-in the corridor of adulthood, as if I was having a staring contest with death himself. But this essay is not about fear, or loss of innocence, but instead about overcoming a stumble on the pathway of life.
When I heard the words "lifelong" and "incurable" that fateful Thursday afternoon my heart sunk to my knees; it was as if I suddenly became a wax figure that was left to melt under the hot summer sun. The physical changes were quite simple: I had to take pills every day, and "ruffage" was now embargoed from my diet. The mental changes, on the other hand, did not happen quite so smoothly. For a couple months, my moods fluctuated like a teeter-totter. I was an emotional hurricane, a category five to be exact. From fortuitous rage to aimless despondency, I felt as if a rug had been pulled out from under my feet, leaving me alone on the floor, scared and full of self-pity. During those first few weeks, I also went a little research crazy, suddenly becoming a self-titled expert on all things Crohn's. But as time wore on, as it tends to do, I calmed down, and I began to actually think, and not panic. I found support from my Aunt who has battled this disease for most of her life. I read books, watched YouTube videos, and even talked to people about Crohn's. I grew to accept the fact that my life changed, and it was going to be different, but I still had a life, something I was blessed to have at all.
I can never go back to thinking I am invincible, but to be honest, I never truly was. Death should not strike fear, but instead invoke a sense of gratitude for the life that one has been allowed to live. There are some nights that I lay awake on my bed, afraid and a little disappointed with these changes, but at the same time I feel a little wiser. Overall, this ordeal caused my ambition to rise because I don't quite fear death as much, but I do fear not living a life I could be proud of. I began to develop my goals, because for the first time I felt as if I had a timeline to complete them. My wish to change the world became a legitimate desire and hope because I finally understood the concept of morality; everyone should be given a chance of a life worth living. I am not giving up my childhood, but instead maturing into adulthood. Although my cloak of invincibility may be lost in the memories of my childhood, a crown of passion, ambition, and humbleness has been placed upon my brow, symbolizing a true transition into maturity and life.
Do you think this answered the prompt well enough? It is a re-purposed essay, but I revised it to try and make it fit better. Thanks and any feedback would be great!
As Georgetown is a diverse community, the Admissions Committee would like to know more about you in your own words. Please submit a brief essay, either personal or creative, which you feel best describes you. (the website says about a page in length)
And here is my essay:
People always say teenagers think that they are invincible. Maybe it's due to a mix raging hormones and idealistic opinions, or even a combination between the first true sips of freedom and what seems like everlasting time. I never thought I was invincible; I never jumped anything on my bike, or even take the now infamous "cinnamon challenge," but I did view death as only a possibility, and not a reality. However, in the summer before my senior year in high school I was suddenly thrust awake from my invincible adolescent dream into the actuality of adulthood. At 17 I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease, a lifelong autoimmune condition in which my body relentlessly (and might I add foolishly) attacks my digestive system. In a single moment my cloak of teenage invincibility was yanked off, and I was standing there-suddenly naked and afraid-in the corridor of adulthood, as if I was having a staring contest with death himself. But this essay is not about fear, or loss of innocence, but instead about overcoming a stumble on the pathway of life.
When I heard the words "lifelong" and "incurable" that fateful Thursday afternoon my heart sunk to my knees; it was as if I suddenly became a wax figure that was left to melt under the hot summer sun. The physical changes were quite simple: I had to take pills every day, and "ruffage" was now embargoed from my diet. The mental changes, on the other hand, did not happen quite so smoothly. For a couple months, my moods fluctuated like a teeter-totter. I was an emotional hurricane, a category five to be exact. From fortuitous rage to aimless despondency, I felt as if a rug had been pulled out from under my feet, leaving me alone on the floor, scared and full of self-pity. During those first few weeks, I also went a little research crazy, suddenly becoming a self-titled expert on all things Crohn's. But as time wore on, as it tends to do, I calmed down, and I began to actually think, and not panic. I found support from my Aunt who has battled this disease for most of her life. I read books, watched YouTube videos, and even talked to people about Crohn's. I grew to accept the fact that my life changed, and it was going to be different, but I still had a life, something I was blessed to have at all.
I can never go back to thinking I am invincible, but to be honest, I never truly was. Death should not strike fear, but instead invoke a sense of gratitude for the life that one has been allowed to live. There are some nights that I lay awake on my bed, afraid and a little disappointed with these changes, but at the same time I feel a little wiser. Overall, this ordeal caused my ambition to rise because I don't quite fear death as much, but I do fear not living a life I could be proud of. I began to develop my goals, because for the first time I felt as if I had a timeline to complete them. My wish to change the world became a legitimate desire and hope because I finally understood the concept of morality; everyone should be given a chance of a life worth living. I am not giving up my childhood, but instead maturing into adulthood. Although my cloak of invincibility may be lost in the memories of my childhood, a crown of passion, ambition, and humbleness has been placed upon my brow, symbolizing a true transition into maturity and life.
Do you think this answered the prompt well enough? It is a re-purposed essay, but I revised it to try and make it fit better. Thanks and any feedback would be great!
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