Around this time last year, I received an email from The Gail and Francis Slattery Center for Ignatian Humanities in which they announced they would be accepting applications for student fellowships for the following school year. I’ve seen this email three times since starting college, and I expect to see it as well in the coming weeks or so. I don’t really know what called me to apply— perhaps having something substantial on my CV was really appealing, or maybe because I would basically be getting paid to do research. If I received the fellowship, it would even mean extra work on top of my classes.
Nonetheless, I applied on a whim, and for the next few weeks, I met with a professor to write, revise, and edit my proposal. A small voice in my head wondered:
“Can you really do this?”
“Are you smart enough to be accepted?”
“What if I submit this proposal, and even with all the work done, I don’t get in?”
Even with the faith of the two professors who supported and guided me, acting as my pillars and withstanding the drafts I sent back and forth, I still held feelings of doubt. All these thoughts and worries amounted to one thing: I was afraid that if I put myself out there, gave it my all, I would fail. Failing after working so hard would hurt more than if I had never tried at all, which I soon learned isn’t necessarily true. Come May 12th, 2025, I received an email that my proposal was accepted. From Fall 2025 to Spring 2026, I would receive funding and mentorship for my project.
I was beyond elated—all those late nights at my laptop, sipping tea to keep awake, the constant revisions to my proposal, the time spent outside of classes, extracurriculars, and conferences had been worth it. Not only did I gain the trust and confidence of the committee, my mentor, family, and friends, but I also learned to have some trust and confidence in myself.
In pushing past these feelings of discomfort, I had the most incredible opportunity to pursue a research interest outside of my typical coursework. I was given the freedom to explore plays with the guidance of a faculty mentor, and I learned what it felt like to truly love what I was learning. Soon, I’ll be writing a 10,000 to 15,000-word essay, which intimidates me, but I trust myself to be knowledgeable and that what I have to say is important.
If I hadn’t hit submit and worked tirelessly on that proposal, I would have never known what in-depth research looked like, nor would I have been able to submit an abstract to a conference to which I’ve recently been accepted. All these little and big things would have been lost on me had I listened to those feelings of doubt, and I’m happy I didn’t.
Now I can click submit on other opportunities and feel a little less scared than I did before. So even if you’re afraid to pursue opportunities, apply to your dream program, or go after that internship, that’s okay. You should pursue everything you want, even if you feel afraid, because it’s better to know that you tried than to spend your life wondering what might have happened if you did.