Flip the Narrative and Enjoy Getting to Know Yourself
Last week, I asked a group of ninth graders to consider the connection between the stories they tell about themselves —their interests, talents, and values— and how they actually spend their time. After analyzing their daily schedules, they designed the resumes they imagined for themselves as high school seniors. Everyone was working individually or in small groups, reflecting and getting excited about the possibilities, when one student pulled me aside.
“Kate, I’m worried,” she said. “I’m not interesting at all. I’m a good student, but I don’t think universities are going to find anything special about me to justify a place on their campus.”
If you feel saddened, surprised, or worried reading this, take a moment to reflect. Whether you are 15 or 50, you will find that in most situations, people express similar anxieties about their lack of “specialness,” particularly when it comes to sharing themselves with others. If adults struggle with this, it only makes sense that teens would too.
A few weeks ago, I attended a conference for college counselors in Colombia with experience ranging from one to fifteen-plus years. Before the event, participants were invited to share proposals for workshops they would like to lead for their peers. After some time, I realized that no one had submitted a proposal (except me, of course, because I love designing workshops!). I began reaching out to different counselors, and the most common response was: “What could I possibly share with others? I don’t have any special knowledge or experience.”
Sad? Surprising? Not really. Although in the college counseling world, these events are frequent, and I cross paths with these colleagues throughout the year, sometimes even in other parts of the world. We are a supportive, collaborative, high-energy bunch. If, even in a safe, close-knit community, few people feel comfortable sharing their personal thoughts, ideas, or strategies, why would we expect a 15-year-old to do so? And yet, every day, I work with teens to help them prepare essays, letters of motivation, activity lists, and resumes—all with the goal of communicating what makes them a strong fit for a specific college.
Before I get into my advice for this student—and for all of us—I want to clarify the task. The goal is not to identify what a university will find interesting; the goal is to discover what the student thinks is unique and important in her own life. What does she care about? How does she like to spend her time? In this work, the goal is self-discovery and appreciation, which allows students to make decisions aligned with who they truly are. When we understand our motivations, we can move our energy toward what really matters.
So, how can we help young people answer these questions when "What do you like?" is met with an exasperated "I don't know"? We break it down and look for patterns.
Finding the Patterns
When a student tells me they don't know what they are good at, I don't ask them to think harder—I ask them to look at the data. Here are four concrete ways to collect that data:
Energy Tracking. I used to ask students: "In what activities do you lose track of time?" I was trying to identify their "flow state." Unfortunately, the response was all too often Netflix and video games. I don’t know about you, but I can find myself watching back-to-back episodes on a Friday night after a stressful week, but am I in a flow state? No. Does it invigorate me? No. Honestly, I often feel worse afterward, wondering why I didn’t just go to sleep or read a good book. Because of this, I now ask students to track their activities for a full week and rank their energy levels rather than just their time. This includes everything: every class, extracurriculars, transit time, and social hangouts. I love this activity because it often reveals quiet truths. A student might realize they are consistently energized by their history discussions, even though they’ve spent years telling themselves (and everyone else) that they are a "math person." The goal isn't immediate analysis; it's to gather a week of honest sensations and then look for the common denominators.
The Values Bracket. Sometimes, a student’s "I don’t know" is simply a lack of vocabulary. They don't know what they value because they haven't seen the menu of options. A personal values assessment provides that menu. By using a "bracket" system—comparing one value directly against another until only a Top 5 remains—the student is forced to make difficult, revealing choices. The real work happens after the results come in. I ask them: "Do you agree with this list? If not, why isn’t it sitting right with you?" Sometimes they don't like what the results say about their priorities; other times, they realize their current schedule is a complete mismatch for what they actually care about. Aligning your calendar with your values is the first step toward a "special" life. Here are links to different free personal values tests online: Personal Values Test 1. Personal Values Test 2.
Letters from Those Who Know You Best. I did this exercise more than five years ago, and I still hold on to the responses. It was that powerful. For a student struggling to see their own unique "spark," this is often the most affirming experience of their high school career. The task is simple: ask parents, siblings, a favorite teacher, or a long-time friend to share three specific moments where they saw the student perform at their absolute best. These aren't just compliments; they are evidence. When a student reads four different letters that all describe their ability to remain calm in a crisis or their knack for making others feel included, it becomes much harder to say, "I’m not interesting." It provides a mirror that reflects their best self back at them.
Reading and Journaling. Finally, two practices that I think are chronically underrated are reading and journaling. If a student does not know herself well, these are the two best ways to eavesdrop on her own thoughts. Reading—not just for school, but for pleasure—exposes a student to different lives and perspectives, allowing them to notice what resonates and what repels them. It builds an internal library of "I like this" and "I don't like that." Journaling then provides the space to process those reactions. It doesn’t have to be a "Dear Diary" entry; it can be a brain dump, a list of frustrations, or a series of questions. When you put a pen to paper, you move thoughts from the messy subconscious into the light of day. Over time, these entries become a map of a student’s evolving identity.
Spend Time Intentionally
Following these exercises, I encourage students to compare their conclusions to their daily schedules. Are your values reflected in your Tuesday afternoons? Are you building on the strengths your teachers identified in those letters?
This is where the "specialness" is born. A university doesn't want a student who has perfectly curated a list of hobbies they think an admissions officer likes; they want a student who is self-aware. When you stop trying to "be interesting" and start being interested in your own life, the narrative flips. You aren't just a "good student" anymore—you are a person with a clear sense of purpose. And that, more than any trophy or title, is exactly what colleges are looking for.
