Everything Happened for a Reason: The Story of How I Got to Michigan

As graduation is rounding the corner, I have been reflecting on my time at Michigan. U-M has been my dream school since I was about 13 years old… and the road wasn’t as easy as 13 year old– or even 18 year old –me thought it would be.  

For high school senior me, Michigan was surefire. I not only met their academic expectations but exceeding every single one of them and my essays were killer. There was no way I wasn’t getting in. When the cheerleaders were announced for senior night at our final football game, I made sure the announcer told the entire school I was intending to attend the University of Michigan in the Fall. 

But… My decision letter didn’t start with a Congratulations! So, I shut my laptop. I didn’t need to read the rest… remember that fact for later.  

I had already been deferred from Michigan and in the time between deferral and regular decision, many other schools had gotten back to me. I had gotten into all of them, but none of them had my heart the way Michigan did. Except for one extremely close second UCLA.  

UCLA invited me to audition for the program, and I rocked it. Within the following month I headed to Richmond, VA to audition for Virginia Commonwealth University’s Dance program and Harrisonburg, VA to audition for both James Madison University’s Dance and Musical Theatre Program.  

This is a story for another time, but my entire life I was told by my dance teachers– you know the ones who were supposed to be supporting me –that I would never be a good dancer.  

I got into both VCU and JMU for Dance.  

These were the biggest moments of my life. I remember screaming in my kitchen when I opened my VCUarts letter that told me I would be a collegiate dancer. Something I always dreamed of but never thought could be a reality.  

I wasn’t going to turn down being a Dance major, something I never thought I would have the opportunity to do, even for Michigan who I was still waiting to hear from for regular decision. I clung to the hope that UCLA would admit me.  

And in came an email from UCLA… it too did not start with Congratulations or flood my screen with confetti… I’ve never cried harder. The girl who dreamt of college since she was six was suddenly telling her parents she’d rather not go to college than choose between JMU or VCU.  

But ultimately, I chose JMU, and I tried my best to be happy about being a Duke. But I just never got there, because that was not what I had been working my entire life for. Everything I did since the age of 13 was to get into Michigan and everyone knew it. Going to JMU was admitting that I had failed. It was humiliating.  

In the hot August sun, I was standing at the host stand of the local brewery. I had to wear a terrible cloth mask that made my face breakout like never before. I was with my best friend, who I have known since I was nine, who I have talked about Michigan with for years. She admitted she couldn’t fathom I was going to JMU, she said I gave off the vibe of a massive state university student. And like a toddler, I stomped my foot and said “that’s because that’s what was supposed to happen.”  

And I cried at the host stand with her (no one was coming to a brewery on a Tuesday at 10am), because all I wanted was to go to Michigan. And this is going to sound fake, but I swear it is true. As I was crying to her, my phone went off. I got an email.  

University of Michigan Admissions: There Has Been an Update to Your Enrollment Connect.  

My stomach has never hit the floor harder than at that moment… Until I opened the email.  

Since you did not accept your spot on the waitlist, we have rescinded your application.  

I… was… waitlisted?! Well, this was news to me. Which only intensified my crying. I at once called to see if I could get this reversed, if I could accept my spot, but no dice. I was stuck with knowing I was smart enough to get into Michigan but not smart enough to get to Michigan.  

Word to the wise, don’t stop reading the email after the first word.  

So, I went to JMU. And I had the time of my life. Even for my freshman year being a covid year… it was in the South… so… it was business as usual. I partied every night, danced on counter tops, kissed boys, skipped class, all the things I never would’ve done in high school. Because those things wouldn’t get me into Michigan. But I wasn’t at Michigan so it didn’t matter.  

And that was the problem.  

People couldn’t utter the word Michigan to me without me sobbing uncontrollably or vibrating in rage. That’s not normal.  

But I finished up my first year at JMU and had the time of my life. But once summer hit, I realized… that was all I had. I had fun but… what did I learn? I didn’t feel challenged in any of my classes, I breezed through them. I felt like I was wasting my parents money at a school where I did nothing but party, talk about partying, and get ready for partying. But more importantly, a school I wasn’t proud of. A school I didn’t truly want to be at.  

I think I always knew that. But it wasn’t until some athlete I met told me he went to Michigan, and I was filled with so much rage that someone as thick as him got to say he went to Michigan when I couldn’t… that I realized, maybe this wasn’t something I was getting over.  

I didn’t know how to bring it up to my parents, because they were so against transferring. I thought once again maybe I could move on from Michigan but then, there were signs everywhere. I’d see people wearing Michigan shirts everyday… in Virginia. I was feeling sad about not being at Michigan, so I went to the gym to clear my mind… The dude at the squat rack next to me was wearing a Michigan shirt. I couldn’t escape it.  

So, I sat my parents down and told them I wanted to transfer. I wanted to be like them and my sister and graduate from a school I felt proud of. One that I would want to represent every day. One that I wouldn’t shrug and quickly mumble when people asked me where I went. One where I was going to play hard AND work hard. One that would challenge me.  

And in October 2021, I was finally accepted into Michigan.  

Now, I know it is my fault that I didn’t spend all four years at Michigan… But I do think it is for the better. If it weren’t for coming in at the time that I did, I would not have met all my best friends in the manner that I did, I would not have joined the Film major at the time I did or gotten on the screenwriting track, I wouldn’t have an internship with Michigan Football, or the career ahead of me in athletics. All the things I love, all the things that have made me love Michigan, would not have been part of my life if I hadn’t started elsewhere to learn just how much I need to be here and needed to make the most of Michigan.  

All journeys to the same destination are different. The path you took to get your diploma will not be the same as the person sitting next to you at graduation. But you all made it there, in your own beautiful and imperfect ways. 

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