Lastly， I printed out that email and framed it.
It was almost second nature to me， as if it was natural to objectify my failure and place it in a location in my house for the entire family to see. Of course I’ve contemplated taking it down and just throwing it away， but I’ve realized that I framed the letter to serve as a reminder of what I’ve realized about myself and the average teenager today.
I compare myself to others in order to define how successful I am. It’s almost natural for human beings to compare themselves to others， primarily because we live in a community of social competition. When I lived amongst the Harvards， the Yales and the MITs， it became second nature for me to 10）put them on a pedestal and 11）simultaneously develop an 12）inferiority complex.
I’ve realized through a single rejection letter that as a teenager， we are pushed and pushed and pushed to almost fit into a mold of success. No longer are we only concerned with crafting a successful social image； we are also concerned with an image of personal success in the eyes of others.
As teenagers， we have goals. We have goals to finally graduate high school and attend a good college. Sometimes， such as in my case， goals become expectations. We expect to get into the college of our choice. We expect to become successful. But success in itself is 13）subjective. What success is to others may not be what success is to you. Only you are the deciding factor on what success really is， so relying on other people to determine how successful you are isn’t the most reliable way to do so.
I’m not going to graduate as the valedictorian or the 14）salutatorian of my class. Heck， I’m not even graduating in the top 20 percent of my class. I won’t be able to wear a gold 15）sash during my graduation or be able to sit on stage. Sure， some people may think of that as not being successful. But to me， just being able to walk the stage， take that diploma， and leave as a high school graduate—that is success to me.