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Diddy trial live updates: Ex-girlfriend ‘Jane' cross-examined in Sean Combs's sex-trafficking case

Diddy trial live updates: Ex-girlfriend ‘Jane' cross-examined in Sean Combs's sex-trafficking case

Washington Post11-06-2025
Sean Combs held a small orange book in court Tuesday, raising plenty of curiosity about the title. He was reading 'The Magic of Believing' by Claude M. Bristol, according to people with knowledge of his reading habits, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to give details. First published in 1948 to help soldiers returning from World War II process their trauma, the book describes itself as an exploration of 'the secrets behind harnessing the unlimited energies of the subconscious.'
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Today's college admissions process isn't just convoluted. It's cruel
Today's college admissions process isn't just convoluted. It's cruel

CNN

time20 minutes ago

  • CNN

Today's college admissions process isn't just convoluted. It's cruel

EDITOR'S NOTE: Mary Frances Ruskell graduated in May from her high school in Columbia, South Carolina. The first round of admissions decisions for Clemson University came out on a December evening, days before midterms at my South Carolina high school. Everything that day felt like a waiting game. Nearly my entire senior class had applied early action, one of the many admissions plans that schools offer to apply to college. It requires submitting applications early to get an early answer, with decisions from colleges coming around mid-December. We all knew that there was a possibility of rejection, but Clemson was the dream school for many kids in my town. They had been decked out in orange and purple gear since they were born, a foregone conclusion since they spent their first nights as toddlers in the stands at Clemson's Memorial Stadium. They would go to Clemson, cheer for the Tigers and be happy. But it didn't turn out that way for everyone — at least not that smoothly and not that day. The modern college application process, with its array of admissions categories, deadlines, decision dates and types of offers, along with dozens of required essays and digitally tracked 'demonstrated interest' monitored by many universities, is incredibly complicated and drawn-out. What used to be a relatively straightforward, mostly synchronized schedule of applications, admission decisions and final choices is now a cascade of submissions starting in autumn, to be answered by acceptances, rejections, deferrals, waitlist placements and likely letters spread out from December to April. Students on waitlists might still be in limbo well into summer. The open-ended stress became a constant, toxic influence on my high school's culture. In the beginning of the year, my classmates and I talked hopefully and openly about where we were applying. By second semester, people had gotten quiet. No one wanted to be the kid who said they wanted to go to a particular university and then didn't get in, to be discussed, dissected or pitied by their classmates at the lunch table. Some students have had enough. In a federal lawsuit filed August 8, students are alleging that aspects of this convoluted and tightly guarded process that colleges and universities have invented over the last decade might even be illegal. The plaintiffs argue that 32 elite US colleges and universities conspired to raise the cost of attendance through binding early decision admissions, making a college education far more accessible to those who can pay more. Once upon a time, according to my mom, college admissions were relatively straight-forward. She applied regular decision to four schools, got her results in the mail on April 1, chose one and was done. For me, depending on the school, I could have applied early action, restrictive early action, single choice early action, early decision 1, early decision 2, 'hidden' early decision or regular decision—all with different deadlines, admissions announcement dates, and possibly even rules about what other schools I could apply to. Early decision, the system the students are suing about, means asking one and only one college for an advance admissions decision, while making a binding promise to attend if accepted. Rumor has it that applying early decision can supposedly double or even triple an applicant's odds of getting in, but students must be absolutely certain this school is where they want to go and that they're willing and able to pay for it. Being accepted means they must withdraw their applications from other schools, without ever knowing what financial aid or merit scholarships other schools might have offered. Early decision is not a legal contract, but there can be serious consequences from backing out of acceptance. Colleges and universities may share news of the student's withdrawal with other institutions, potentially affecting that student's chances of being admitted elsewhere. Clemson didn't offer early decision, but it did offer early action. Applying early action doesn't bind you to a single school, but it still involves rules about what other schools you can apply to and when. Early action applicants are widely believed to have a higher rate of admission than regular decision applicants — reportedly the restricted early action acceptance rate for Harvard University's class of 2028 was 8.7%, while the regular decision acceptance rate was 2.71%. However, this difference might simply be because the early action applicant pool includes recruited athletes, whose success boosts the overall rate for the group. It's hard to assess because of the secretive nature of the process. Applying regular decision is non-binding and has the latest deadlines. Early action and early decision application deadlines are typically in October or November, while regular decision is usually in late December or early January. Regular decision gives students the greatest flexibility but might give them a worse chance of getting in, since they will be compared with a larger applicant pool and early applicants may have already filled many spots, according to IvyWise, an educational consulting firm. I believe employing this system allows the universities to benefit at the student's expense, reducing uncertainty on their side while keeping applicants like me and my classmates confused, in doubt and miserable. The benefits of early admission programs for universities are clear: universities can secure a large portion of their incoming class early, and possibly avoid competition with other schools. The emotional and financial well-being of the students who must participate in this system, however, seems to be a distant consideration for universities, if they consider it at all. The day the early Clemson decisions were released was the day it felt like everything changed, when we learned first-hand that the decisions could be just as unclear as the admission plans we were already struggling through. It was one of the first big announcement dates after months of worrying. But instead of acceptances and rejections, which would have been definitive answers, most of my classmates got no real resolution at all. Clemson deferred many of my classmates, meaning that they would be reevaluated during the regular admissions process and get another decision in the spring. Yet even then, that answer wouldn't necessarily be a clear-cut acceptance. Post-deferral, Clemson accepts some kids and rejects others. But those aren't the only possibilities. Clemson 'summer-starts' some kids, requiring them to arrive early to campus to take classes over the summer. Still others are 'bridged,' meaning that they will spend their first year at a local community college and then transfer to Clemson for their sophomore year. Clemson also places some on a waitlist, where those students would have to wait and hope enough admitted students declined an offer to open up spaces for them. Some students who thought they would almost certainly be accepted because of similar grades and test scores to those of admitted students from previous years were shocked to be deferred. One of their few options to increase their chances of straight-forward admission and avoid being summer started, bridged or waitlisted was to potentially increase what schools call their 'demonstrated interest' during the in-between months. Demonstrated interest is a way for schools to guess how serious a student is about a school, tracking students online and in person to determine how likely they are to attend and protect the university's 'yield.' The schools record contact with admissions officers, attendance of seminars and webinars, visits to campus, and attendance at pricey summer camps. Or these kids could write 'letters of continuing interest.' A LOCI, in high school-senior speak, is basically a love note begging a school that isn't really sure it wants you that you still adore it anyway, and would you please just let me in? Even without Clemson's early decision process, the uncertainty and unexpectedness of the results plunged myclass into a level of distrust and fear I'd never felt before. (I reached out to Clemson via email and phone for comment about its admissions process, but I didn't hear back by deadline.) By the time the Clemson announcement came out, all our early applications had been submitted, and most of our regular decision applications were due in the next two weeks. It was far too late for anyone to substantially edit their essays in a panic. At that point I had already written a dozen for the schools I was applying to — that's because it's no longer enough to write the Common Application essay. Every school I applied to required 'supplemental' essays as well. My class hummed with quiet resentment. The confusion and suspense made us sharper toward each other. I tried to seem aloof and disaffected, as though I didn't care at all. It was a defense mechanism. I think other students were doing it, too, especially in my most competitive classes such as multivariable calculus and my Advanced Placement courses. No one wanted to show how much they cared. My own result from Clemson was an early acceptance. But along with many of the other kids who got in early, I hadn't considered it my dream school. For the students who had yearned to go to Clemson since they were in diapers, only to be deferred, there was a distinct feeling of 'it should have been me.' They hoped that admitted kids would withdraw and give the deferred kids a better chance. When kids didn't withdraw, it was sometimes seen as greediness. How could they keep a spot at a school when they didn't want it enough to commit right away while others were desperate to get in? However, I wouldn't rescind my application from Clemson because I hadn't yet heard from my regular decision schools. If I didn't get in to other schools, Clemson remained a great option for college. I stopped telling other kids where I had applied and where I was admitted because we got twitchy around each other if it was the same school. My class played hushed games of telephone, asking friends of friends if they knew where people had applied and where they had gotten in so we could reevaluate our own chances. We fed off each other's stress, creating a class-wide feeling of apprehension. I didn't pay attention to it all the time, but the thrum of anxiety was a constant backdrop for months, keeping me tense. I got caught up in the toxic stress of it all, and I regret it. The fear didn't get anyone into a school. It just made us miserable. This environment that colleges have created for admissions is mean. There has to be a kinder and more straightforward way to admit kids to college. Maybe that means going back to the old days in which there was one deadline and one date for results and the process was clear. I don't know if that will happen, although maybe the new lawsuit will have some effect. At least it's already raising awareness of the situation. In the meantime, the best advice I have for current high school seniors is to try to separate your sense of self-worth from both the process and the results. The results are not a judgment on you as a human being. I was devastated when I was deferred from my first choice school in December. But then, after a few days, I realized that nothing had actually changed. I was still the same person. Admissions results do not determine your future or potential. Your ability to affect the world and be happy is not determined by an arbitrary system that is not set up for your benefit. Deferral and rejection hurt because the essay and supplemental prompts demand that you be vulnerable about yourself, inevitably pulling you in emotionally. It feels like the schools are personally judging you. Try to remember that this process is partially a numbers game for schools, but you are not just a number. One of the most helpful things my parents did was to be patient when I was freaking out. When I was feeling better and calmer, they were an external reminder that this system is messed up. My dad's favorite refrain was, 'It's all a crapshoot.' At the time, that was exactly what I needed to hear because it made clear that admissions was partially a thing of chance and not of judgment on myself. (Thanks Dad.) Applying to college is a long and grueling process that I've seen often damages the kids going through it. In the end, though, it worked out all right for my class. Everybody got in somewhere, even if it wasn't what they thought their dream school was at first. Looking back on it, I think I'll be far, far happier at the school I'm going to than the one I applied to early action. But that hindsight wasn't there to comfort me or my classmates through the fall and early winter, before I had the school year to grow and think about what I really wanted. And I wish it could be easier for the high school seniors coming after me. Get inspired by a weekly roundup on living well, made simple. Sign up for CNN's Life, But Better newsletter for information and tools designed to improve your well-being.

Stop Your Wine From Going Bad Fast With These Storage Tips
Stop Your Wine From Going Bad Fast With These Storage Tips

CNET

time21 minutes ago

  • CNET

Stop Your Wine From Going Bad Fast With These Storage Tips

If you're pouring just one glass and planning to save the rest of the bottle, it's natural to wonder how long the wine will stay good. Can you enjoy it the next day, or does it lose its flavor after just one night? The good news is wine does not spoil the moment it is opened. With the right storage, it can keep its taste for several days. Recorking the bottle, storing it upright, and placing it in the fridge -- yes, even red wine, can all help slow down oxidation. Exactly how long it lasts depends on the type. White and rosé wines often hold up for around five days, reds for about three to five, and sparkling wine for one to three, depending on the style and how tightly you seal it. Don't miss any of CNET's unbiased tech content and lab-based reviews. Add us as a preferred Google source on Chrome. Read more: Need to Find High-Quality Wine on a Budget? Here's How Here's how long wine lasts and how best to store it Once any bottle of wine stays open beyond the few hours it takes to breathe and decant, its quality begins to deteriorate. That's why it is crucial to take some steps to preserve its longevity, should you want to finish the remaining beverage before it essentially turns to vinegar. According to wine educator Rachel Thralls, each wine type requires different storage methods. Here's a breakdown of the most common. Red wine Open red wine should be stored in the fridge to preserve it and removed about 10 minutes before serving. Pamela Vachon/CNET Days it will last in the fridge: 3-5 "Red wines can be stored in a cool, dark place with a cork or in your wine fridge or refrigerator," says Thralls. "The more tannin and acidity the red wine has, the longer it tends to last after opening." For example, a lower tannin wine like Pinot Noir won't last as long as rich reds like Cabernet Sauvignon. "Some wines will even improve after the first day open," Thralls adds. "If you don't have a wine fridge, your regular fridge is better than letting the wine sit out in a 70-degree room. Just take the red wine out about 10 minutes before you want a glass so it warms up a little. The red wine will also open up in the glass." Full-bodied white wine Days it will last in the fridge: 2-3 Fuller-bodied whites tend to lose their oomph a little faster. YourWineStore "Full-bodied white wines such as oaked chardonnay and viognier tend to oxidize more quickly because they see more oxygen during their prebottling aging process," explains Thralls. "Be certain to always keep them corked and in the fridge. If you drink a lot of this type of wine, it's a really smart idea to also invest in vacuum caps ." Not long after the cork is popped, all wine begins to deteriorate. Vacu Vin Sparkling wine Days it will last in the fridge: 1-3 Sparkling wine has the shortest shelf lives of any wine. Shutterstock "Sparkling wines lose their carbonation quickly after opening," says Thralls. "A traditional method sparkling wine such as cava or Champagne (which have more atmospheres of pressure, aka more bubbles) will last a little longer than a tank method sparkling wine like prosecco." Invest in a bouchon (sparkling wine stopper) for best results. If you're really serious about preserving your Champagne, Coravin makes a bougie sparkling wine preservation system that pumps carbon dioxide back into the bottle to extend its effervescent fridge life by weeks. Light white, sweet white and rosé wines Days it will last in the fridge: 4-5 Uncorked light white wines can go for as long as five days if kept cold. Fresh Vine "Most light white and rosé wines will be drinkable for up to a week when stored in your refrigerator with a cork," advises Thralls. "You'll notice the taste will change subtly after the first day as the wine oxidizes. The overall fruit character of the wine will often diminish, becoming less vibrant." Tips for storing wine How and where you store wine is important, before and after opening. Wine Enthusiast The aforementioned guidelines are helpful for any wine novice. Thralls suggests a few general rules to take into consideration with any opened bottle. 1. Invest in a wine preserver. "They work very well for keeping wine after it's been opened. You can use the cork and push it back in or try [a product such as] Repour, which removes the oxygen from the bottle." Coravin wine systems are pricier but these high-tech units actually refill the bottle with argon gas, extending the life of red and white wine for up to a month. 2. Store any open wine in the refrigerator. "Or a wine fridge, if you have one," says Thralls. "This cold storage will slow down any development of the wine, keeping it fresh. The ideal cellar or wine fridge temperature is 55 degrees Fahrenheit." 3. Keep wine away from direct sunlight or sources of heat. "This includes above a refrigerator or oven. It will get 'cooked' and ruin the aroma and flavor." Ideal serving temperatures for wine The Hyperchiller can help you chill warm wine to a proper serving temperature. HyperChiller One could argue that wine temperature depends on personal preference; there are optimal temperatures that somms and wine professionals aim for. Generally, wine actually tastes better served slightly cool, which applies to whites and reds. This $21 device can chill warm wine (or any other liquid) in seconds. "The same ideology of experiencing coffees, teas and sparkling waters at different temperatures also applies to wine," says Thralls, revealing that the more delicate floral aromatics in fine wines can actually be subdued at overly cool temperatures or burn off too quickly when the wine is too warm. "If you drink affordable wine most of the time, serving it slightly chilled will disguise most 'off' aromas," she says. "A wine above 70 degrees Fahrenheit will start to smell more alcoholic because of increased ethanol evaporation that occurs as the temperature rises." Thralls says that this is a good reason to not fill your wine glass up to the brim. "A typical serving of wine is about 5 ounces and a bottle of wine contains just over 25 ounces, so you should get about five glasses of wine per bottle," she explains. "The extra space in a typical wine glass is designed to hold the aromas when you swirl and smell your wine, so try and save some space." The ideal serving temperatures for each type of wine There's an ideal temperature for serving every type of wine. Africa Studio/Shutterstock Champagne and sparkling wines Affordable sparkling wines taste best served at 40 to 45 degrees Fahrenheit. If you have a high-quality, more expensive Champagne or sparkling wine, serve at ideal light white wine temperatures, which are slightly warmer. Light white wines and rosés Examples of light white wines are Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Grigio. These wines are best served between 45 to 50 degrees Fahrenheit, slightly cooler than heavier white wines. Rosé wines also taste best and maintain their crispness and acidity at these temperatures. Heavy whites and light reds Heavier white wines, such as chardonnay, taste well at a range of temperatures depending on someone's personal preference, from 48 to 56 degrees Fahrenheit. Oak-aged whites' fruit tends to taste better when served slightly warmer. Lighter red wines such as Pinot Noir taste better at this cooler end of the spectrum. Read more: 5 Most Common Wine Drinker Mistakes to Avoid, From a Wine Expert Medium-bodied reds Medium-bodied reds, such as merlot, are best served right around 55 degrees Fahrenheit. This temperature is also the ideal cellar temperature. You can grab your bottle right out of your cellar and pour a glass. Keep in mind that wines tend to warm up in the glass as well. Full-bodied and aged reds Full-bodied reds such as cabernet sauvignon, syrah and zinfandel are best served between 59 and 68 degrees Fahrenheit. But isn't that too cold for a red wine? The wine will taste much better if cool and, as Thrall mentioned, the glass will warm the wine as well. No matter how you swirl it, a good wine is one that doesn't end up down the drain. If you must tap out and savor the remainder of your bottle for future imbibing pleasure, take all of these tips into consideration and you'll never waste money (and precious alcohol) again. Cheers. Wine expiration FAQ

Today's college admissions process isn't just convoluted. It's cruel
Today's college admissions process isn't just convoluted. It's cruel

CNN

time21 minutes ago

  • CNN

Today's college admissions process isn't just convoluted. It's cruel

EDITOR'S NOTE: Mary Frances Ruskell graduated in May from her high school in Columbia, South Carolina. The first round of admissions decisions for Clemson University came out on a December evening, days before midterms at my South Carolina high school. Everything that day felt like a waiting game. Nearly my entire senior class had applied early action, one of the many admissions plans that schools offer to apply to college. It requires submitting applications early to get an early answer, with decisions from colleges coming around mid-December. We all knew that there was a possibility of rejection, but Clemson was the dream school for many kids in my town. They had been decked out in orange and purple gear since they were born, a foregone conclusion since they spent their first nights as toddlers in the stands at Clemson's Memorial Stadium. They would go to Clemson, cheer for the Tigers and be happy. But it didn't turn out that way for everyone — at least not that smoothly and not that day. The modern college application process, with its array of admissions categories, deadlines, decision dates and types of offers, along with dozens of required essays and digitally tracked 'demonstrated interest' monitored by many universities, is incredibly complicated and drawn-out. What used to be a relatively straightforward, mostly synchronized schedule of applications, admission decisions and final choices is now a cascade of submissions starting in autumn, to be answered by acceptances, rejections, deferrals, waitlist placements and likely letters spread out from December to April. Students on waitlists might still be in limbo well into summer. The open-ended stress became a constant, toxic influence on my high school's culture. In the beginning of the year, my classmates and I talked hopefully and openly about where we were applying. By second semester, people had gotten quiet. No one wanted to be the kid who said they wanted to go to a particular university and then didn't get in, to be discussed, dissected or pitied by their classmates at the lunch table. Some students have had enough. In a federal lawsuit filed August 8, students are alleging that aspects of this convoluted and tightly guarded process that colleges and universities have invented over the last decade might even be illegal. The plaintiffs argue that 32 elite US colleges and universities conspired to raise the cost of attendance through binding early decision admissions, making a college education far more accessible to those who can pay more. Once upon a time, according to my mom, college admissions were relatively straight-forward. She applied regular decision to four schools, got her results in the mail on April 1, chose one and was done. For me, depending on the school, I could have applied early action, restrictive early action, single choice early action, early decision 1, early decision 2, 'hidden' early decision or regular decision—all with different deadlines, admissions announcement dates, and possibly even rules about what other schools I could apply to. Early decision, the system the students are suing about, means asking one and only one college for an advance admissions decision, while making a binding promise to attend if accepted. Rumor has it that applying early decision can supposedly double or even triple an applicant's odds of getting in, but students must be absolutely certain this school is where they want to go and that they're willing and able to pay for it. Being accepted means they must withdraw their applications from other schools, without ever knowing what financial aid or merit scholarships other schools might have offered. Early decision is not a legal contract, but there can be serious consequences from backing out of acceptance. Colleges and universities may share news of the student's withdrawal with other institutions, potentially affecting that student's chances of being admitted elsewhere. Clemson didn't offer early decision, but it did offer early action. Applying early action doesn't bind you to a single school, but it still involves rules about what other schools you can apply to and when. Early action applicants are widely believed to have a higher rate of admission than regular decision applicants — reportedly the restricted early action acceptance rate for Harvard University's class of 2028 was 8.7%, while the regular decision acceptance rate was 2.71%. However, this difference might simply be because the early action applicant pool includes recruited athletes, whose success boosts the overall rate for the group. It's hard to assess because of the secretive nature of the process. Applying regular decision is non-binding and has the latest deadlines. Early action and early decision application deadlines are typically in October or November, while regular decision is usually in late December or early January. Regular decision gives students the greatest flexibility but might give them a worse chance of getting in, since they will be compared with a larger applicant pool and early applicants may have already filled many spots, according to IvyWise, an educational consulting firm. I believe employing this system allows the universities to benefit at the student's expense, reducing uncertainty on their side while keeping applicants like me and my classmates confused, in doubt and miserable. The benefits of early admission programs for universities are clear: universities can secure a large portion of their incoming class early, and possibly avoid competition with other schools. The emotional and financial well-being of the students who must participate in this system, however, seems to be a distant consideration for universities, if they consider it at all. The day the early Clemson decisions were released was the day it felt like everything changed, when we learned first-hand that the decisions could be just as unclear as the admission plans we were already struggling through. It was one of the first big announcement dates after months of worrying. But instead of acceptances and rejections, which would have been definitive answers, most of my classmates got no real resolution at all. Clemson deferred many of my classmates, meaning that they would be reevaluated during the regular admissions process and get another decision in the spring. Yet even then, that answer wouldn't necessarily be a clear-cut acceptance. Post-deferral, Clemson accepts some kids and rejects others. But those aren't the only possibilities. Clemson 'summer-starts' some kids, requiring them to arrive early to campus to take classes over the summer. Still others are 'bridged,' meaning that they will spend their first year at a local community college and then transfer to Clemson for their sophomore year. Clemson also places some on a waitlist, where those students would have to wait and hope enough admitted students declined an offer to open up spaces for them. Some students who thought they would almost certainly be accepted because of similar grades and test scores to those of admitted students from previous years were shocked to be deferred. One of their few options to increase their chances of straight-forward admission and avoid being summer started, bridged or waitlisted was to potentially increase what schools call their 'demonstrated interest' during the in-between months. Demonstrated interest is a way for schools to guess how serious a student is about a school, tracking students online and in person to determine how likely they are to attend and protect the university's 'yield.' The schools record contact with admissions officers, attendance of seminars and webinars, visits to campus, and attendance at pricey summer camps. Or these kids could write 'letters of continuing interest.' A LOCI, in high school-senior speak, is basically a love note begging a school that isn't really sure it wants you that you still adore it anyway, and would you please just let me in? Even without Clemson's early decision process, the uncertainty and unexpectedness of the results plunged myclass into a level of distrust and fear I'd never felt before. (I reached out to Clemson via email and phone for comment about its admissions process, but I didn't hear back by deadline.) By the time the Clemson announcement came out, all our early applications had been submitted, and most of our regular decision applications were due in the next two weeks. It was far too late for anyone to substantially edit their essays in a panic. At that point I had already written a dozen for the schools I was applying to — that's because it's no longer enough to write the Common Application essay. Every school I applied to required 'supplemental' essays as well. My class hummed with quiet resentment. The confusion and suspense made us sharper toward each other. I tried to seem aloof and disaffected, as though I didn't care at all. It was a defense mechanism. I think other students were doing it, too, especially in my most competitive classes such as multivariable calculus and my Advanced Placement courses. No one wanted to show how much they cared. My own result from Clemson was an early acceptance. But along with many of the other kids who got in early, I hadn't considered it my dream school. For the students who had yearned to go to Clemson since they were in diapers, only to be deferred, there was a distinct feeling of 'it should have been me.' They hoped that admitted kids would withdraw and give the deferred kids a better chance. When kids didn't withdraw, it was sometimes seen as greediness. How could they keep a spot at a school when they didn't want it enough to commit right away while others were desperate to get in? However, I wouldn't rescind my application from Clemson because I hadn't yet heard from my regular decision schools. If I didn't get in to other schools, Clemson remained a great option for college. I stopped telling other kids where I had applied and where I was admitted because we got twitchy around each other if it was the same school. My class played hushed games of telephone, asking friends of friends if they knew where people had applied and where they had gotten in so we could reevaluate our own chances. We fed off each other's stress, creating a class-wide feeling of apprehension. I didn't pay attention to it all the time, but the thrum of anxiety was a constant backdrop for months, keeping me tense. I got caught up in the toxic stress of it all, and I regret it. The fear didn't get anyone into a school. It just made us miserable. This environment that colleges have created for admissions is mean. There has to be a kinder and more straightforward way to admit kids to college. Maybe that means going back to the old days in which there was one deadline and one date for results and the process was clear. I don't know if that will happen, although maybe the new lawsuit will have some effect. At least it's already raising awareness of the situation. In the meantime, the best advice I have for current high school seniors is to try to separate your sense of self-worth from both the process and the results. The results are not a judgment on you as a human being. I was devastated when I was deferred from my first choice school in December. But then, after a few days, I realized that nothing had actually changed. I was still the same person. Admissions results do not determine your future or potential. Your ability to affect the world and be happy is not determined by an arbitrary system that is not set up for your benefit. Deferral and rejection hurt because the essay and supplemental prompts demand that you be vulnerable about yourself, inevitably pulling you in emotionally. It feels like the schools are personally judging you. Try to remember that this process is partially a numbers game for schools, but you are not just a number. One of the most helpful things my parents did was to be patient when I was freaking out. When I was feeling better and calmer, they were an external reminder that this system is messed up. My dad's favorite refrain was, 'It's all a crapshoot.' At the time, that was exactly what I needed to hear because it made clear that admissions was partially a thing of chance and not of judgment on myself. (Thanks Dad.) Applying to college is a long and grueling process that I've seen often damages the kids going through it. In the end, though, it worked out all right for my class. Everybody got in somewhere, even if it wasn't what they thought their dream school was at first. Looking back on it, I think I'll be far, far happier at the school I'm going to than the one I applied to early action. But that hindsight wasn't there to comfort me or my classmates through the fall and early winter, before I had the school year to grow and think about what I really wanted. And I wish it could be easier for the high school seniors coming after me. Get inspired by a weekly roundup on living well, made simple. Sign up for CNN's Life, But Better newsletter for information and tools designed to improve your well-being.

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