I’m going to start with a confession. Last week, I spiraled.
A wave of schools just announced they’re dropping their supplemental essays this year. Tulane, UGA, UVA, the University of Washington, and a couple dozen other selective schools over the last two cycles. The stated reason is reducing student stress. But my brain, at ten at night, went straight to: fewer supplements means the personal statement matters more, there’s less for schools to look at, and… oh no, what about MY kid?
So there I was, a college counselor who does this for a living, momentarily panicking about my own teenager. And then I caught myself, because that feeling is the exact thing I spend my career telling moms to put down. So let’s put some of it down together. Not a to-do list today. A to-DON’T list.
1. Being “well-rounded.” They want pointy, not perfect. A kid who goes deep on one or two genuine interests is more compelling than one spread thin across ten. Your teen doesn’t need to be good at everything. They need to be real about something.
2. Taking every AP class. Strategic beats exhausted. A challenging-but-survivable schedule serves your kid better than eight APs and a panic disorder. Rigor matters. Self-destruction doesn’t.
3. A perfect test score. Note the word perfect. Many schools are still test-optional, and a strong-but-imperfect score has never quietly sunk a thoughtful application. Prep where it helps, then let it be.
4. The prestigious summer program. Expensive is not the same as impressive. A summer job, watching siblings, or volunteering down the street can tell just as strong a story. What your kid does with the summer matters more than what it cost.
5. Leadership titles. Impact over title. The kid who showed up every week and made the group better beats the “Vice President” who did nothing with it.
6. Starting a nonprofit. Unless your teen genuinely cares and is doing the work, it reads as resume-padding, and admissions officers see right through it. Authentic and small beats flashy and hollow.
7. What the neighbor’s kid is doing. Seriously. Stop. Their kid is not your kid. Comparison is the fastest way to make a good plan feel like failure. Run your own kid’s race and turn off the scoreboard.
So what DOES matter?
When you cut the noise, what colleges actually want is human: fit, contribution, story, and potential. Not perfection. Not doing everything. You’re not behind. You’re exactly where you need to be.
One more thing, about that essay.
Here’s what sent me spiraling in the first place. With supplements disappearing, the personal statement becomes the one place your kid’s real voice shows up, and it carries more weight than it used to. That’s the part most families freeze on, and the part you can’t write for them. It deserves its own conversation, and that’s the one I’m having on the podcast next week.
If your teen is staring down that essay this summer, I’m putting together something free for parents in exactly that spot. More on that soon. For now, grab my free Common App Timeline so you always know what to do and when (insert link), and if you want a calmer way through the whole process, come see if the College-Bound Parent Collective is a fit.
Put down half the list. I promise the sky stays up. You’re doing better than you think.
