Sessions with Sydney is a weekly column by features editor Sydney Ray. For more installments of Sydney’s ideas, opinions and ramblings, check out the opinions page, and check back every Friday for a new issue.

In the sixth grade, my teacher took our class on a field trip to the University of California, Los Angeles to learn about colleges. I had no idea as I woke up that morning years ago that I would develop a deep yearning in my heart.

After touring the campus and taking a thorough look at everything, I made a decision: this is where I had to go to college. Although I was young, the decision was definite. And it stuck.

It stuck with me through the end of my sixth grade year and after promotion. It stuck with me through junior high. It stuck with me on into high school, and even until my senior year.

Although I was not obsessed with attending UCLA, it was constantly in the back of my mind. I based most of my high school achievements off both what interested me and what I believed would help me attain my goal of becoming a Bruin.

Naturally, as I was sending out a massive amount of college applications last fall, I sent one to my dream school, along with 12 other, less mesmerizing colleges I was interested in.

I knew that getting into UCLA would be quite a reach for someone like me – someone who is rather average and and never married her extra-curriculars. I do not play three sports, I struggled with the SAT and AP tests and my cumulative GPA is well under a 4.32.

I knew I had done my best in high school, but a new question was posed. Would my personal best be good enough to impress admission officers at a prestigious university? I knew my talents and abilities were unique, but I doubted myself, my resume and my accomplishments nonetheless.

I reminded myself of my academic weaknesses often, in an attempt to let myself down easy. And then it happened.

On Sunday, March 14, I was rejected from UCLA.

I was completely devastated. I felt like everything I had worked for was smashed to pieces right in front of my face.

Why did I spend those exhausting, late nights staying up to finish papers? Why did I stay in class at lunch to get extra help? And ultimately, why did I even bother to try my hardest in high school?

I realized immediately after these thoughts raced through my head that I am having an awful attitude towards the situation. Rather than being a “negative Nancy” and beat myself up for not getting into one college, I instead must be thankful for all I have.

The terrific teachers I have had throughout my high school career have helped me develop a strong set of learning skills. I have learned a huge deal about both romantic and friendship relationships. And at the end of the day, I have six other acceptance letters sitting at home.

When people get hurt, either by another person or in general, they tend to backlash. It hurt to be rejected from UCLA; my initial response was inappropriate and exaggerated – a childish attack on the university that would get me nowhere.

I would still be beat down and bitter if I had not chosen to make light of the situation. It was difficult to say the least, but definitely a worthwhile choice.

“Attitude is everything,” a mentor once told me. While the phrase is a little clich