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10 Fatal Flaws That Will Make Admissions Officers Yawn (And How to Avoid Them)
August 24, 2025

Your Common App Essay: 10 Fatal Flaws That Will Make Admissions Officers Yawn (And How to Avoid Them)


Introduction: The 650-Word Mountain You Have to Climb

Let’s be real. The Common App personal statement can feel like a monstrous, 650-word mountain standing between you and your dream college. You stare at the blank screen, the cursor blinking back at you like a tiny, judgmental eye. “Share your story,” it says. “Be authentic.” “Show, don’t tell.”

Easy for it to say! It’s not its future on the line.

But here’s the secret: while a phenomenal essay can’t salvage bad grades, a bad essay can absolutely make stellar grades and test scores forgettable. Admissions officers read thousands of these. Their eyes are trained to spot the clichés, the generic fluff, and the well-intentioned mistakes that make essays instantly forgettable.

Your mission is not to write a perfect essay. Your mission is to write a memorable one. And that starts by knowing what pitfalls to avoid. So, let's grab our metaphorical climbing gear and navigate the 10 fatal flaws that can cause your application to tumble right down the mountainside.


Flaw #1: The "Resume in Paragraph Form" Snore-Fest

What it is: You use your precious 650 words to list every accomplishment, award, and club membership since kindergarten. “Then in tenth grade, I became treasurer of the Latin Club, which taught me valuable leadership skills. Then in eleventh grade, I made the varsity soccer team, which taught me teamwork…”

Why it’s fatal: Your activities section already exists for a reason! The personal statement is your chance to add color, depth, and personality to that list. An admissions officer doesn’t want to read what you did; they want to know why you did it and how it shaped you.

The Fix: DON’T list your achievements. EXPLAIN one of them. Pick ONE specific moment, one challenge, one failure, or one tiny experience that was meaningful. Were you really the Latin Club treasurer? Don’t tell me you “learned leadership.” Tell me about the specific panic you felt when the bake sale money didn’t add up and how you spent three hours re-counting loose change with your friend, discovering that your real skill wasn’t math, but persistence. That’s a story.


Flaw #2: The Overused "Hero's Journey" Cliché

What it is: This is the classic, and most common, trap. The essay where you are the star player who single-handedly scores the winning goal in the state championship. The essay where your mission trip to another country “changed everything” and you “saw how happy they were with so little.”

Why it’s fatal: These topics are not inherently bad, but they are incredibly common. It’s extremely difficult to write about them in a way that feels fresh and authentic without sounding self-congratulatory or, worse, condescending.

The Fix: Find the unconventional angle. If you must write about the big game, write about the silence on the bus ride home after a loss. If you must write about a travel experience, focus on a small, humbling moment of misunderstanding or a personal failure abroad, not on how you “saved” anyone. Authenticity beats grandeur every time.


Flaw #3: The Thesaurus Throw-Up

What it is: You right-click every other word in Microsoft Word to find the most grandiose, sophisticated, and utterly unnatural synonym. “My quintessential peregrination to the supermarket was an unequivocal catalyst for my epistemological metamorphosis.” (Translation: My trip to the grocery store really changed how I think.)

Why it’s fatal: It doesn’t sound smart; it sounds like you’re trying way too hard. Admissions officers are experts at spotting a thesaurus hack. It strips your voice of all its personality and authenticity, making you sound like a poorly programmed AI.

The Fix: Write like you speak. Use your own voice. Would you really say “utilize” in a conversation with a friend? Or would you say “use”? Read your essay aloud. If it sounds clunky or like someone else wrote it, it needs to be simplified. Clarity is king.


Flaw #4: The Humblebrag Boast-A-Thon

What it is: This is a sneaky cousin of the resume essay. It’s when you try to disguise a boast as a flaw. “My greatest weakness is that I just care too much. I’m such a perfectionist that I sometimes stay up all night to make my posters for history class museum-quality.”

Why it’s fatal: It’s transparent and off-putting. It shows a lack of self-awareness and genuine reflection. Admissions officers can smell this from a mile away, and it leaves a bad taste in their mouths.

The Fix: Be genuinely vulnerable. It’s okay—preferable, even—to write about a real failure, a real weakness, or a time you were genuinely wrong. Colleges don’t expect you to be perfect. They want to see that you have the maturity to learn from your mistakes. Writing about a time you failed a test because you didn’t study, or let a teammate down, is far more powerful than any fake weakness.


Flaw #5: The Generic, Planet-Sized Topic

What it is: You try to tackle enormous concepts like “world peace,” “social justice,” or “the meaning of life” in 650 words. These essays are filled with sweeping statements and platitudes but are completely devoid of personal, concrete details.

Why it’s fatal: You can’t solve world hunger in two pages. These essays end up being vague, unoriginal, and tell the reader nothing about you.

The Fix: Think small to say something big. Instead of writing about “social justice,” write about the specific afternoon you spent teaching your grandmother how to use Zoom during the pandemic, and how it connected to your ideas about technology and isolation. Use a small, specific story as a lens to view a larger idea. The tiny details are what make you human and memorable.


Flaw #6: The "I Owe It All To..." Tribute Act

What it is: An essay that is entirely about another person—your parent, your coach, your best friend. While it’s wonderful to be inspired by others, an essay that spends 600 words describing how amazing your mom is only tells me one thing: you have an amazing mom. It doesn’t tell me anything about you.

Why it’s fatal: The application is about you. The essay needs to center on your thoughts, your actions, and your growth.

The Fix: Make them the setting, not the main character. It’s okay to start by talking about someone who influenced you. But the essay must quickly pivot to your response to that person. How did you internalize their advice? What did you then do differently? The focus must always return to your journey.


Flaw #7: The Grammatical Apocalypse

What it is: Typos. Missing commas. Their/there/they're errors. Sentences that never seem to end.

Why it’s fatal: It signals carelessness. If you can’t be bothered to proofread the most important piece of writing in your high school career, what does that say about your attention to detail? It’s an easily avoidable unforced error.

The Fix: Proofread like a pro. Read it backwards (seriously, it helps you see errors). Read it out loud. Have your English teacher, a parent, and a nit-picky friend read it. Use a text-to-speech program to have your computer read it to you. There is no excuse for sloppy mistakes.


Flaw #8: The Gimmick That Goes Off the Rails

What it is: Writing your entire essay as a screenplay, a poem, a series of text messages, or a recipe in a desperate attempt to be unique.

Why it’s fatal: Gimmicks are incredibly risky. They often distract from your message and make it harder for the admissions officer to see your strengths. It’s like showing up to a job interview in a clown costume—you’ll be remembered, but probably not hired.

The Fix: Let your story be the innovation, not the format. The best essays are almost always well-told, straightforward narratives. Your unique perspective and voice are what will make you stand out, not a quirky structure that might just come off as confusing.


Flaw #9: The Answer to a Different Prompt

What it is: You have a essay you wrote for a class or another application and you try to force it to fit one of the Common App prompts. The result is a square peg in a round hole—it doesn’t quite fit, and the strain is obvious.

Why it’s fatal: It shows a lack of effort and specificity. The prompts are designed to elicit reflective, personal responses. Ignoring them suggests you didn’t take the time to engage with the application process thoughtfully.

The Fix: Use the prompts as a launchpad. Read all seven options. Let them spark ideas. Choose the one that allows you to tell the story you are most excited and able to tell. The prompt is your friend, not your enemy.


Flaw #10: The Forced, Fake Ending

What it is: You tack on a cheesy, moral-of-the-story conclusion that ties everything up with a neat little bow. “And that’s how I learned that teamwork makes the dream work!”

Why it’s fatal: Life is messy. Real learning and growth are ongoing. A overly tidy conclusion can feel simplistic and immature, undermining the complexity of the story you just told.

The Fix: End with reflection, not a resolution. Instead of stating what you learned, show how you were changed. Leave the reader with a thought, a question, or a moment of quiet realization. Your conclusion should feel earned and authentic, not like a bumper sticker.


Conclusion: From Fatal Flaw to Fabulous Feature

Look back at that blinking cursor. It’s not so scary now, is it? You’re now armed with the knowledge of what not to do. Avoiding these 10 fatal flaws automatically puts you in the top half of applicants.

Remember, the goal of your personal statement is simple: to make an admissions officer, after reading thousands of essays, look up and say, “I want to meet this student.”

They want to see a glimpse of the person who will show up on their campus—the curious, resilient, and thoughtful individual who will contribute to their community. So be honest, be specific, and be yourself. Tell a story that no one else can tell.

Now go climb that mountain. You've got this.