After 9 weeks of classes with Manhattan GMAT and well over 200 hours of GMAT studying logged, I’ve experienced a few ups and downs in my confidence. I started out fairly strong in my practice GMAT scores and expected to make up the difference to my goal in leaps and bounds since I haven’t studied math in a decade. In the past few weeks I have seen that enthusiasm plummet.
I have spent 200 hours with a set of earplugs blocking out the Cheers reruns, Saturday house cleanings, and my wife’s giggling after-work phone conversations with friends. A good set of earplugs is similar to standing on a mountaintop. They create an almost uncomfortable silence that allows your mind to drift. There is simply a void that allows random thoughts to rush in and fill the space with unexpected memories, embarrassments, frustrations, and joys. In these situations my mind loves to release a flood of doubts.
In music there are moments when you realize you are good, you get a flash that everything is falling into place and the realization shifts your mood from transcendental jubilation to second guessing prevention. Instead of allowing yourself to remain lost in a perfect moment, you begin worrying about how you’re going to ruin that moment. And that fear of ruining the moment inevitably causes you to ruin the moment.
In the past few weeks I have seen my scores, those “soon to sky rocket by leaps and bounds” scores, flat line well below my goals. Suddenly that perfect musical moment has become something I am frightfully struggling to retain. In the application process this translates to personal doubts of my candidacy and abilities. Have I overstepped my abilities? Have I misled myself on my talents? Have I made it twenty-eight years into life before recognizing that I am, in fact, not exceptional?
I’ve found this hard to explain to others, and in most cases have simply elected not to say anything. How could anyone proclaim their desire to be “exceptional” or to “make a difference” without sounding like a megalomaniac? To be honest, previous to an MBA my desired life trajectory was pointed at rock stardom, so I probably am a megalomaniac. But still, how does one self-evaluate their quality and ability? Do I deserve to get into Chicago Booth? Absolutely. Could I excel at Stanford? Without question. Will I ever set foot in their door? I have no idea. In fact, in light of my recent performance I’m feeling like maybe the answer is no. And after several years of soul searching that led me to this undertaking, I don’t know where that uncertainty puts me.