<p>Since all the apps are done, can i check out someone’s why upenn essay so I can just compare it to mine? If any accepted ED kid or just any reg. decision person would send it to me, it’d be much appreciated. It would be even better if you were a wharton applicant like me too. Thanks.</p>
<p>i don't think they consider what college you are applying to for the Why Penn Essay</p>
<p>i would show mine but its not on my current computer</p>
<p>Hmm, alright. =) At this point in the game it can't hurt.</p>
<p>I changed the names in this essay so I coudln't personally be identified, but I'd actually like to hear what y'all think; it's the "risk" essay for Penn. I'm not sure how'll they'll take my "Why Penn?" essay, actually. And this one's probably too long.</p>
<p>Anyways, here:
Life always seems so easy, so clear-cut in retrospect. When I reflect on my past, theres some things that I wish came more easily to me; itd be nice to sometimes have life easy-as-pie without those hard lessons. Those hard lessons, though, like all things are double-edged going through them might be painful, but we value the knowledge we gain from them all the more. Its just like weightlifting; in fact, my first hard lesson came from weightlifting. The same way I appreciate the ache and pain of weightlifting is the same way I appreciate the method I first got introduced to the sport; being rough and scared to polished and confident.</p>
<pre><code>Heres a fact: there is no greater compulsion to the average guy in high school than being embarrassed in front of a girl. Lets rewind two years, to a cool autumn day in biology class. We were allowed some free time, and a couple of girls were feeling adventurous and playful, and so decided to approach poor me. I was initially wary, but pretty soon the conversation had warmed up with hearty laughter on all sides. Then, the girls started casually touching, casually patting; I started casually sweating. Then, like a thunderbolt, my friend Lisa popped the question of doom. Can we see you flex your arm, Mike? Time stopped still, but her mouth was till moving. My pores expanded and suddenly, my musk was suddenly overwhelming. I became acutely aware that I had only spot-applied deodorant that morning. Smiling weakly, I obliged her. Or so I thought. She lay her hand on my quivering mass of sinew, and asked, No, seriously! Panicking, I tried to be smooth, and play it off as temporary weakness Im wearing a long sleeved shirt! Naturally, the universe was working against me, as it often does to people, and a sizable crowd began to gather to revel in my discomfort and embarrassment. After 5 minutes of being patted down and reassured, I finally conceded defeat. The hint of the casual smiles on the lips of my classmates at the end of the period finally brought me to a slow simmering boil that lasted from that period bell to when I got home. Consternated, I vowed that very night that iron would be the natural extension of my body, and dreamt of the deference Id soon receive the next morn.
Except that didnt happen. That tiny black worm we all know, the worm of self-doubt, also insinuated itself into my dreams and my consciousness. Yes, this is the worm that created millions of worst-case scenarios. Every time I approached the weight room, the visage of gleaming, strong football players waiting only to deride me arose in my mind. I spent an entire 15 minutes there, in front, holding the drawstrings of knapsack in a kind of white-knuckled indecision; 15 minutes of grappling between me and the worm. I lost, of course that day. Then, at night, lying on my bed thinking again, I resolved again and then promptly lost again next afternoon. How they would would laugh, I thought! Could I even bench 50 pounds? 75? Id heard of those monsters that pumped iron the same way they pumped my hand brutally. Then again, Id also heard they spawned on locker room floors; after a self-conscious giggle, I was again inclined to continue my struggle the next day.
This destructive cycle continued for two weeks; two weeks of sweaty shoes and mixed feelings. I saw that furtive smile in my dreams, and in the day dreamed of derisive jeers. Then, on some balmy afternoon, I decided to take the plunge. It was a Wednesday, I figured; thered be no one to see me, and Id stick to the little weights. I opened the door, took the breath of marked man, and stepped in.
Nothing happened.
</code></pre>
<p>See, that wasnt that bad, I murmured to myself. Then, and only then did he catch my eye. What a man, I tell you; he had the thin legs of a man over his prime, but he alsot the gargantuan body of a man totally confident in his movements. This was Arthur Miller, he who had benched the bench-pressing equipment as a boy; he whose son was an Olympic champion. And lo, and behold, he began to laugh. The laugh came quickly, booming, and rolled across the padded room towards my quivering heart. Their eyes started to lift towards me. They took in my scrawny frame, in this nightmare of nightmares and drifted over to the girl that Arthur Miller stood beside. They werent laughing at me! Another thin giggle escaped my wracked body.</p>
<p>That is, until I saw her cleaning the bar. It looked like it weighed just a little more than ¾ of my body weight, and my hands were becoming clammy again. I quickly disengaged myself from the scene, changed quickly, and hid myself in the corner hoping to surreptitiously lift weights. Actually, in those two sweaty hours, I surprised myself. I found I actually liked the pain, I found that I loved that exquisite moment before when my muscles gave and the searing pain gave my spirit meaning. Even better, no one seemed to be paying attention to me I was content in the land of low iron, the land of machine weights.</p>
<p>I eventually became better, of course. Pretty soon, I was at the bench, and doing quite decently; I invited my best friend, and soon we were pumping iron with the best of them in our Science & Brain bowl T-shirts and Spalding short shorts. After awhile too, even the girls began to notice. Interestingly, by that point we no longer cared what they thought; like many weightlifters do, we became obsessed with the pain and the weight, rather than the way our bodies like. I soon began a close relationship with the Coach, and adopted the weightlifters mantra with pain, one can seize the day. </p>
<p>So whats the point, you might ask? I didnt get the girls, nor did I start modeling I wouldnt be writing if I were. Is there a lesson? Maybe. I think most of all I value the emotional mindset, mental preparedness, and emotional relationships I created during weightlifting yes, the emotional relationship with my iron, but also the one with my coach. I think the overwhelming essence of my experience is that I finally realized that though the worm will always plague me, its easier and potentially a lot more fruitful to ignore that self-doubt the first time.</p>
<p>u guys do realize that adcoms visit this site regularly, and can search unique sentences which will automatically identify you.....right?</p>
<p>well, my essay was less then half the size of yours...i couldn't finish reading it but it looked good for a while</p>
<p>who cares...it's good, because if they do come and check it out, and think, "wow, this kid is nutsy enough to post under some college forum for us"...it shouldn't hurt. WHO CARES...it's not like they have a pile of Apps and a rubber stamp, and once they catch you on CC they'll stamp "REJECTED" on your app...</p>
<p>I'm not worrying about adcoms knowing who I am; I mean, all of the stuff is already sent and recieved. Besides, the time to check on one applicant? Unless something is seriously wrong, probably not. Pfft.</p>
<p>No, it's more of preventing any unpleasant people on this forum from reading.</p>
<p>Btw, I realize it's a little long; oh well, it's over now. =(</p>
<p>lol, like the admissions people will care at all</p>
<p>For some reason I doubt a college admissions officer has ever been to this site.</p>
<p>i read it, it's so good!!!! i liked it, so realistic and well written, i'd give it a 12/12, you are probably in to penn, the essay is not only entertaining but also shows your personalities. a job well done!</p>
<p>it was amusing. thanks ^^</p>
<p>i wrote mine about weightlifting</p>
<p>in 520 words though</p>
<p>and did you copy and paste the essay word for word ? i thought i saw some typos lol</p>
<p>adcoms visit this site? why, dont they have more important stuff to do ?</p>
<p>if you want to see a why penn essay, i posted mine on a different thread for feedback. here, i'll bump it</p>
<p>Admissions officers DO visit this website. My GC got inside info about it and grabbed me in the hall cuz shes knows I post here. Watch what you say.</p>
<p>they wont be able to figure out whose who tho, will they?</p>
<p>i mean, seriously, unless we on our posts, we say things that obviously give away our identities, the adcoms won't know who's who. my sn's canadia but i ain't from canada! most of us have really really obscure sn's that doesn't give a clue about what we are. few example(just the people i often see post): catch-22 (i love that sn btw and i'm just starting the book), thethoughtprocess, thestonedpandas, shortymxpx17, and dostoyevsky). you look at that and u wonder, who the hell can that be?</p>
<p>"When I reflect on my past, theres some things that I wish came more easily to me" --- there are; and avoid shortening phrases with apostraphes</p>
<p>yeah, like someone said before, i hope you didn't copy and paste it directly.</p>
<p>actually, i think the name 'the stoned pandas' is a complete give-away of his identity :)</p>
<p>haha. i actually thought he was azn at first judging by he sn (pandas--> china, idk...) but after reading some of his posts, i realized he wasn't.</p>