…cry in the library at least once.
CRY IN THE LIBRARY AT LEAST ONCE.
Follow for more raw, relatable glimpses into the unique journey through higher education.
The clock strikes 2 AM. The hum of the fluorescent lights is the only sound breaking the silence, save for the frantic tapping of keyboards around you. You're surrounded by brilliance, by relentless ambition, and suddenly, the weight of it all becomes unbearable. Maybe it's that impossible problem set, the looming thesis deadline, or just the sheer exhaustion of trying to keep pace with the brightest minds in the world. You feel a familiar sting behind your eyes, a lump in your throat. You try to blink it back, to maintain the facade of composure, but the dam breaks. A silent tear, then another, falls onto the textbook page.
This isn't a moment of weakness. This is a rite of passage. It's the silent acknowledgment of the immense pressure, the relentless pursuit of excellence that defines the Ivy experience. You're not alone. Every single one of us, from the valedictorians to those barely scraping by, has had that moment. That solitary, vulnerable release in the hushed sanctity of the stacks. It’s a testament to how deeply we invested, how much we cared, and how truly challenging it was. It reminds us we're human, even amidst superhuman expectations.
So, tell us: where was your library cry moment? What pushed you to that edge, and what did you learn from it?