In the past few weeks, I've received a couple of marketing emails from someone I adore that included the phrase “gobbly goop.*”

But I haven't said anything about that being the incorrect spelling.

Not because I didn’t notice. (I noticed immediately.)

As a lifelong word and grammar nerd, I've learned something important: accuracy and relationship don't always share the same goal.

Correcting someone... even kindly... changes the air. Suddenly, you’re the judge and the red pen becomes a gavel. And most of the time, that’s not actually what the moment needs.

It's much easier to carry the tiny tension of an unfixed sentence than to fix a strained trust.

College planning lives in that exact space.
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Students often assume I’m here to give them a college list and fix their essays.
Parents often assume I’m here to do all that and make sure it's all done correctly.

But if all I did was tick boxes and correct, I’d be focusing on the least important part of the real work: giving the student time, space, and tools to figure out what they mean and what they want in college — and, well... their future lives.

So instead of immediately editing, I pause (or try to...this one is still tough for me!). I'm learning to ask better questions (thanks AI!) to help students clarify their thinking. I let a messy paragraph exist longer than feels comfortable.

To a student, that feels like relief: they’re allowed to think instead of perform. To a parent, it can feel unsettling: the instinct is to help, clarify, improve.

But the strongest applications have a student-sounding voice that prizes precision over perfection.

Perfect writing tries to impress. Precise writing communicates authentically.

By the end, yes, of course, the grammar is clean and the structure works. The real change, though? The student understands what they’re saying, and the parent can finally hear their child's voice in the application.

And bonus: it sounds more human, which is becoming a real hot commodity in the AI-ification of nearly every written word we encounter these days.

Admissions readers notice that instantly.

Once you start getting a picture of who a student might become, it helps to hear from the people who read applications so you can stop second-guessing whether you're doing enough of the right things now.

This spring, I’m hosting a small set of conversations where families can see the long timeline clearly — not as pressure, but as orientation.

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The first one is coming up IN TWO DAYS— and you get to submit your questions ahead of time when you RSVP!

Saturday, March 14 at 3PM PT
​What Medical Schools Wish Students Started Sooner ​
​The Hidden Timeline to Medical School (From High School Through College)

I’ll be talking with anesthesiologist Dr. Puja Trivedi**, a medical school application reader and mentor of medical students in UCLA-affiliated training programs, about what future successful applicants were already doing in high school.

👉 You can register now here: If you can’t attend live, please register anyway — I’ll send the recording.

If medicine isn't your pathway, check out the other family college-planning conversations in the spring series and save your spot now! You'll be sure receive more info and reminders as those dates approach!
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Keep on poppin' with purposeful college planning 🫧,
​Mindi

*P.S. For the record, it’s spelled gobbledygook. One word — originally coined to describe bureaucratic language that sounded like turkeys squawking. The more you know! 🌈🎶

**P.P.S. Dr. Puja Trivedi sees the difference between students who were built over time and students who tried to assemble themselves at the end. We’ll translate that into what families can do, calmly and gradually, long before med school applications exist.