“Unfortunately after carefully reviewing your application …”
After receiving some of the worst news of my life, nothing felt real. Even the ordinary — my messy room, my cats meowing from the kitchen — felt a million miles away. Then, the annoying, incessant buzz of my phone began as my group chat began asking if everyone had opened their decisions. That was when it slowly started to dawn on me that I would, in fact, have to face this waking nightmare.
I had been rejected from the McIntire School of Commerce.
Denial
To set the scene, it was June 13th — hot, summery and serene — the day that was supposed to be the best day of my life thus far. I was so excited that I hadn’t slept the entire night before. Hence, when I finally opened up my email and read those devastating words, I chalked it up to be a hallucination.
Clearly, I was exhausted and delirious, and my pessimistic, tired brain was playing devious tricks on me. I hadn't even finished reading the letter — so in fact, it was quite likely that it actually read, “After reviewing your application we are unable to even express with words how excited we are to accept you into McIntire!!! Yay!”
That would be funny. Maybe McIntire had a sense of humor.
I mustered the courage to re-open my phone and finish reading my — surely acceptance — letter. Then I read it again, just to check. And again.
I guess McIntire didn't have a sense of humor after all.
Anger
The sting of rejection set in quickly. Within hours of opening the email, I was doomscrolling on LinkedIn — my feed clogged with an onslaught of formulaic “thrilled to announce” posts. Some of my peers were so thrilled that they even posted their acceptance letters on Instagram, just in case LinkedIn wasn’t enough.
I was shamelessly viewing profiles, watching the hopeful “Pre-Commerce” in people’s headlines give way to the shiny new “Commerce” title. Meanwhile, I still hadn’t removed “Pre-Commerce” from my own headline — I didn’t even know what I would replace it with. “McIntire Reject,” possibly? “Massive Failure?” My jealousy was an itch, and scrolling through LinkedIn was like picking at a scab until it bled again and again.
Bargaining
Eventually, my anger gave way to panicked planning.
With a large chunk of summer ahead of me and nothing but an overwhelming feeling of helplessness, I had plenty of time to plan. Although I had spent an entire year checking off all the pre-reqs, gruelling my way through rigorous Comm club applications and even deciding the concentrations I would choose once I got in, I could still pick a different major! It wasn’t like I had made Comm my entire personality or anything.
So, I started strategizing — desperately trying to patch together a Plan B to compensate for my lack of foresight.
It’s totally okay that I didn’t get in, I told myself. It was never that deep. I could always just transfer. Or pick another major, like Economics. Or eventually do a Master’s in Commerce. Or better yet, call up admissions and beg them to reconsider.
Or, you know, just cry.
Depression
My life was over. The truth was inescapable and nonnegotiable — I didn’t get in. Luckily, I got rejected around the same time “Love Island” season 7 started, so I spent a lot of time obsessing over that to distract myself.
Beneath all of these feelings, I just felt deeply disappointed in myself. I was frustrated that I’d gotten so emotionally invested in something that I had always known was a long shot, frustrated that I’d clung to this plan as my sole hope, knowing full well how competitive it was. A lot of that frustration came from how easily I’d let myself become entranced by a world I wasn’t even in yet — spending hours studying at Rouss Robertson, surrounding myself with friends who shared my goals, losing myself in the mini cult that was “pre-Comm.”
I thought back to my first semester “Intro to Commerce” class, how every concept clicked in my mind and left me fascinated, wanting to learn more. Now, without that path ahead, I felt hollow and lost.
Acceptance
I once read that the stages of grief are non-linear, that you can go back and forth between them as opposed to being a predictable step-by-step flow. I think that's true, because I still get angry, and I’m still heartbroken. But the lectures from my parents about the myriad of options still available to me, commiserating with friends who’d faced the same loss and even lying to myself just a little — telling myself the Comm building is not all it’s cracked up to be — all helped reel me back in. And, at some point, I conceded that maybe this wasn’t the end of the world. Or, rather, that I didn’t have to let it be.
I haven’t totally conquered this stage yet. After all, it’s only been two months since I was knocked sideways. But having the whole summer to grieve my loss has given me time to reconsider my academic plan and reground myself.
I could still get where I had originally wanted to go — a corporate or finance role — I’d just have to take a different route. Plus, as a result of all this, researching other major options has made me realize how my pre-Comm tunnel vision caused me to sideline other things I cared about, like my interest in psychology.
I don't necessarily believe in clichés like “rejection is redirection,” because I truly believe that I would have been content and well-directed in Commerce. However, rejection did force me to step outside the bubble I had formed and revisit curiosities I’d pushed aside.
I know this isn’t the end of my journey with rejection, as I’m bound to face it again and again. But I don’t feel quite so afraid of it anymore. I was rejected from what was once everything to me, and yet I’m not ruined. Grounds is big. Opportunities are everywhere. I’ll try again.
Read More
From Oxford to Cape Town, these Hoos go global
By Dana Douglas | 5 days agoThe University is renowned for taking its students far and wide — academically, professionally and, well, literally
A summer in STEM: Students take on the tech industry
By Charley Thomas | 6 days agoPeople often say technology is the future, but for some University students, it is also the present
‘I Run With Jim’ T-shirt campaign raises over $8,000 for local charities
By Xander Tilock | August 28, 2025The success of the project, and its impact, are a testament to Ryan’s reputation in the community.
