Having graduated from a Mexican public high school, I was beyond astonished when I saw my acceptance letter to Brown University; seeing my life efforts looked upon and validated made me feel both proud of my achievements and agog over their outcome. I imagined myself walking through the Van Wickle Gates, chatting with classmates from all over the world and biking down College Hill along the picturesque streets of Providence.

I thought about my courses and all the possibilities available; should I take a language course? How many courses can I shop? How hard are they going to be? Winning the lottery wouldn't have produced in me as much excitement as being welcomed to Brown's outstanding community did. However, ground rapidly hit my soles when a heavy hodgepodge of dubieties dissolved my joyful cloud. How could I leave my family? What would I do without my precious Mexican food? What if I didn't fit in? Was this really for me?

"I believe in you, and think you can cope with this huge responsibility and more," my mom said when I uttered my concerns. And until that moment I hadn't realized how much her words meant to me, and specifically how they'd helped me move forward with the whole college thing. Had she not reposted a Facebook link to an EducationUSA webpage, I would have never even thought of pursuing my higher education abroad, let alone doing it in an Ivy League institution. Her most memorable advice is one through which, ever since she told it to me, I steer every decision I make: "You already have the no; look always for the yes."

I like this phrase because it implies that there's actually a "yes" to find; you only have to look for it. And the way I understand it, that search is pursued with hard effort, passion, and commitment.

However, my financial circumstances did limit my possible college choices: either I applied to highly selected universities with big endowments, or never dare dream to go study abroad. The affordability of an American university is reserved for the Mexican elites and rich businesspeople. The majority of citizens can only have a chance if they are awarded full scholarships. So, at the moment of picking my choices for college, my first consideration was whether the school to which I was applying gave money to international students. Although many schools have comprehensive scholarships, their award usually consists of loans. And, having heard desperate stories of people being drowned by their college debts, that's another thing I couldn't afford. Thus, by the time I narrowed my choices, the only probable ones were a handful of big-name universities, whose large endowments were indirectly proportional to their admissions rates.

Though I knew it wasn't an easy challenge, I didn't feel intimidated by the Ivy League pedigree. Instead, I relied on my accomplishments and writing skills to craft the best application possible and I devoted my soul to prepping for the SAT. I also received precious support and guidance in the EducationUSA office in Mexico City, where my counselors walked me through the obscure jungle of US college applications. Despite its natural highs and lows, the process was overall smooth sailing. Thus, March came and many college decisions with it. With one wait list and one acceptance with an uncertain financial aid package, I had to wait until the 31st -- Ivy day -- to hear from the options that were most likely to give the money I needed to pursue my dream.

The outcome was beyond everything I would have ever expected, and March 31 is engraved in my memory as the date Brown Admissions Committee saw promise in me, despite my low-income background. March 31 is the day I found the most unlikely (and pricey) "yes," so far, and a dream began to come true.