You’re Not Average—You’re Just Too Close to Your Own Story
We live in a globalized world—one where your best friend might live three time zones away, where your classroom might include voices from three continents, and where you’re expected not just to understand your own culture, but to contribute thoughtfully to a broader, interconnected community.
It’s exciting—but also overwhelming.
In this fast-moving, boundary-blurring landscape, I often hear students say things like:
"I’m just average. I don’t have anything unique to say."
And I’ll be honest: it pains me every time. Because what I see—and what I know—is the opposite.
The Myth of the “Unremarkable” Teen
At Catapult, I work with students from all walks of life, and the throughline across all of them isn’t perfection—it’s quiet brilliance. The student who walks their younger siblings home from school while listening to political podcasts. The one who translates for a parent at the bank. The one who stays late to rebuild a school club, even if no one notices.
These may not feel extraordinary. But in a college application—where your job is not to impress but to reveal—they’re pure gold.
What makes a story stand out isn’t the scale of the achievement. It’s the clarity of insight and the honesty of reflection. And in this global moment, when the world is increasingly complex, the admissions readers are hungrier than ever for stories that cut through the noise with truth and specificity.
Looking Back to Understand Who You Are
If you're struggling to identify what makes you different, try looking backward. Your family’s traditions, the food on your dinner table, the music playing in the background of your childhood memories—these aren’t trivial. They’re touchstones. Whether you celebrate them, question them, or do both at once, your relationship with your history is a powerful source of meaning.
In fact, in this globalized world, students who can articulate where they come from—literally and figuratively—often write the most compelling essays. Their reflections stand out not because their experiences are wildly unusual, but because they’ve taken the time to understand how those experiences shaped their values, their voice, and their vision for the future.
The College Essay as a Window, Not a Billboard
Admissions officers aren’t looking for perfection. They’re not reading your essay to verify whether you belong on a highlight reel. They’re trying to understand what drives you, how you think, and what kind of community member you’ll be.
The best essays often emerge from slice-of-life moments:
A conversation in the kitchen that reframed how you view success.
The ritual of walking your dog every evening, which became your space to decompress and reflect.
The decision to reclaim a part of your identity you once pushed away.
These aren’t filler—they are the story.
Writing Prompts to Help You Dig Deeper
If you're not sure where to begin, ask yourself:
What do I take for granted that others might find fascinating?
What values or beliefs do I hold that come from my family, culture, or community?
What is one small habit or moment that reveals something big about who I am?
When did I feel most connected—or disconnected—from where I come from?
It’s not about inventing a dramatic narrative. It’s about finding meaning in what’s already there.
You’re Not Average—You’re Just Close to Your Story
If you’re reading this and thinking, But my life is boring, remember this: you're too close to your own story to see its shape clearly. That’s why I do this work—to help students step back, reflect, and discover the narrative thread that’s been there all along.
In a globalized world, your unique story matters more than ever. It doesn’t have to be loud. It just has to be yours.
