How Peer Advice Gave Me the Courage to Apply Somewhere Unexpected

By Rina T. (not her real name), International Student from Thailand

When I first began thinking about applying to college in the United States, I made a list of schools that felt “safe.” Not safe in terms of acceptance rates, but emotionally safe—schools I had heard of, schools others from Thailand had applied to, schools my teachers and counselors knew how to guide me toward. My list included big-name universities with solid reputations and, more importantly, places where I thought I would fit in and wouldn’t be questioned for wanting to go there.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my list was driven by a fear of rejection and a need for certainty. As a first-generation college applicant to the U.S., I didn’t want to take risks. Every step—from researching schools, understanding financial aid, figuring out essays—felt like learning to swim in the deep end without a life jacket.

Then I met Serena (not her real name), a peer advisor from a nearby country who was already studying in the U.S. Through a virtual mentoring program, I was paired with her just as I was narrowing down my college list. Serena had a calm, thoughtful way of asking questions that helped me look deeper at my motivations. When I showed her my list, she didn’t criticize it—but she did ask, “Are there any schools that excite you but feel too out of reach to even consider?”

That question stayed with me.

There was one school I had read about in an education blog—a small liberal arts college in the northeastern U.S. It wasn’t a name that came up often in my school’s counseling office, but something about it had stuck with me: the interdisciplinary approach to learning, the emphasis on close student-faculty relationships, and a strong global studies program. It was the kind of place where, I imagined, people might actually want to hear my story.

But I hadn’t dared include it on my list.

Serena encouraged me to research more and even connected me with a student from that college who had also applied from Southeast Asia. Speaking with that student changed everything. They didn’t have perfect grades or a flawless SAT score, but they had a story—and the college had valued it.

Through Serena, I came to understand that U.S. colleges, particularly smaller liberal arts schools, often look for students with unique perspectives, not just perfect statistics. I learned about holistic admissions. I learned about the role of essays and recommendation letters. I learned that being different wasn’t a weakness—it could be an advantage.

With Serena’s encouragement, I added the school to my list. She reviewed my essay drafts and helped me find ways to express not just what I had accomplished, but who I was. I stopped trying to sound like the “ideal” applicant and started sounding like myself.

I hit submit in December. I almost removed the school at the last minute out of fear, but Serena reminded me: “If you don’t apply, you’re already saying no to yourself.”

In March, I received my acceptance letter. Not only had I been admitted, but I was offered generous financial aid—enough to make it possible for me to attend.

Looking back, that single conversation with Serena changed the direction of my college journey. Without her encouragement and the validation I received from someone who had been in my position, I don’t think I would have applied. Peer advising didn’t just help me navigate the process—it gave me the courage to believe that my story belonged in places I hadn’t even dared to imagine.

Now, I tell younger students the same thing Serena told me: Don’t let fear make your decisions. Let your curiosity lead you. The worst that can happen is a “no.” But the best? The best can change your life.