The Truth About College Admission Essays

My nephew was a solid applicant—good grades, decent activities, unremarkable test scores. His first essay draft was about winning the state debate championship. It was boring.

His final essay was about failing to make the JV basketball team as a freshman and spending the next two years as the team manager. He got into his reach school.

Here's what I've learned from helping dozens of students with their application essays.

What Admission Officers Actually Want

They're not looking for impressive achievements. They're looking for insight.

Achievements are already listed elsewhere in your application. The essay is your chance to show how you think, what you've learned, and who you are beneath the resume.

The question they're asking isn't "Did this person accomplish a lot?" It's "Would this person be interesting to have in a classroom discussion?"

The "Impressive Topic" Trap

Every admissions reader has seen thousands of:

• Mission trip essays
• Sports championship essays
• Grandparent death essays
• Overcoming illness essays

These topics aren't bad. But they're overused, and they tend to produce essays that sound like everyone else.

The best essays often come from small moments:

• The conversation with your dad in the car
• The weird hobby you can't explain
• The time you were completely wrong about something
• The mundane job that taught you something unexpected

A narrow window into your specific experience beats a sweeping narrative about important events.

The Structure That Works

Most strong essays follow a simple pattern:

Scene: Start in a specific moment. Not "I've always loved science" but "At 2am in our garage, my third rocket prototype exploded."

Complication: What made this moment difficult, interesting, or meaningful?

Reflection: What you learned, realized, or started to question.

Connection: How this connects to who you are now and who you want to become.

You don't need to cover your entire life. You need to show growth through one specific lens.

Show, Don't Tell (Yes, Really)

"I learned that failure is a good teacher" tells me nothing.

"After my third failed prototype, I realized I'd been skipping the boring step—documenting what went wrong. Now I keep a failure journal for everything" shows me something specific.

Concrete details make your essay memorable. Abstract statements make it forgettable.

Instead of: "I'm passionate about helping others." Try: "Every Saturday morning I'm at the food bank at 6am, sorting donations before anyone else arrives. I like the quiet. It feels like setting the stage for something important."

The Voice Question

Your essay should sound like you. Not like a thesaurus. Not like what you think they want to hear.

If you use words in your essay that you'd never use in conversation, cut them. If your sentences feel formal and stiff, read them aloud and rewrite them the way you'd actually say them.

Admission officers read thousands of essays that sound the same. The ones that stand out have a distinct voice—often casual, often funny, always genuine.

What NOT to Do

Don't summarize your resume. They have your activity list. Use the essay for something that doesn't fit anywhere else.

Don't be too safe. An essay that takes no risks is also an essay that makes no impression.

Don't write what you think they want to hear. Essays about "learning to see both sides" or "discovering my passion for service" sound calculated.

Don't bury the lede. If your interesting insight is in paragraph 4, move it to paragraph 1.

Don't moralize. Avoid ending with a lesson like "And that's why it's important to never give up." Trust the reader to draw conclusions.

The Failure Essay

Essays about failure are powerful when done well—and terrible when done poorly.

Poorly: "I failed, but then I worked hard and succeeded." This is a humble brag disguised as vulnerability.

Well: "I failed, and I'm still sitting with what that means about me." This is actual reflection.

The best failure essays don't need a redemption arc. They show someone grappling honestly with something difficult. That's more impressive than any comeback story.

The Revision Process

No one writes a great essay on the first draft. Or the second.

Process that works:

1. Brainstorm freely—don't worry about the prompt at first
2. Write a rough draft quickly
3. Get feedback from someone who knows you
4. Rewrite from scratch (don't just edit—start over)
5. Polish for language and flow
6. Read it aloud multiple times
7. Get feedback again
8. Final polish

Most students spend too long on their first draft and not enough time rewriting. The magic is usually in draft three or four.

The Parent Problem

Well-meaning parents often make essays worse.

They push toward impressive topics. They smooth out the rough edges that made the essay interesting. They add "sophisticated" vocabulary that kills the student's voice.

Parents can help with proofreading. They shouldn't help with content or voice. The essay needs to sound like an 17-year-old, not like a 45-year-old trying to sound like a 17-year-old.

The Real Point

The essay is your chance to be a person, not an applicant.

Show them how you think. Share something real. Let your voice come through.

They're not looking for perfect. They're looking for interesting.

---

Need help finding your authentic voice? Try WriteBetter.ai to develop writing that sounds like you.