June 6, 2025 
Share
They say Bais Yaakov girls don’t talk about rejection.
But here I am.
Not rejected.
Not accepted.
Just… waiting.
I’m not sure which is worse.
It started like this:
One by one, the messages rolled in.
“Bnos Sarah said yes!”
“Machon Raaya!! Baruch Hashem!”
“Guys, I got Hadar!!!”
Smiley faces.
Fire emojis.
Screenshots. Mazel tovs. Excitement.
And me?
I stared at my phone, pretending to scroll like I was busy.
Pretending I didn’t notice.
Pretending it didn’t hurt.
But it did.
I went to my room, closed the door, and just sat there.
Refreshing my inbox every 10 minutes like some kind of obsessive.
As if hitting “refresh” hard enough would make Hashem change His mind.
Nothing came.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
I did everything right. The essays. The interviews. The references.
I even wore the navy pleated skirt they all say looks “normal” enough.
I told myself it’s not personal.
But it feels personal when it’s your name missing from the seminary spreadsheet someone “accidentally” sent to the whole grade.
I know this shouldn’t define me.
I know Torah isn’t limited to a school in Geula.
But that doesn’t stop the knot in my stomach when my best friend casually says,
“Don’t worry, you’ll get in somewhere. I just can’t imagine us not all being there together.”
The quietest part of me whispers:
What if I’m not good enough?
And then the louder part — the one I’m learning to listen to —
whispers something else:
What if this is the test?
What if Hashem is watching how I sit in the waiting — not just what I get at the end of it?
So I davened tonight. Really davened.
Not for one specific school to say yes.
But that I’d feel okay… even if it’s a no.
And then, right after Maariv, I checked my phone one last time.
There it was.
An email from one of the seminaries.
My heart literally stopped.
I stared at it. I didn’t open it.
Not yet.
Because suddenly, this didn’t feel like an ending.
It felt like the beginning of something bigger.
I’m not the same girl I was last week.
And whatever happens next… I want to write it down.
Not just for me. For every girl who’s ever felt like she was the one left waiting.
To be continued.
Written anonymously by a Bais Yaakov girl sharing a first-hand account of her year in seminary. For questions or comments, please email [email protected].
