What to Expect When Working with an Admissions Coach

Introduction

This post is for anyone considering working with an admissions advisor — whether you're looking for a one-time consultation, help identifying the strongest stories for your personal statement, or in-depth editing support for your essays.

I’ll start by sharing my own experience of seeking support during my LL.M. application process — what I looked for, what helped, and what didn’t.

Then, I’ll walk you through what support can actually look like: how to evaluate the support system you already have, and how to build a stronger one.

Finally, I’ll share the kind of support you can expect from a professional admissions coach like me and the philosophy that guide how I work with clients.

LL.M. Applications: The Universe of Support

When I look back at my LL.M. applications, two patterns stand out.

The first: enormous amounts of solitary work.
The second – just as strong, and maybe even more powerful: the incredible support I received from people and the environments around me, often without even realizing it at the time.

One of the most important sources of support was my ex-partner.
He wasn’t part of the academic world at all – in fact, as a perfume packaging designer, he was quite removed from it.
But he was the best I had at the time.

He became a sounding board for all my ideas.
I’d hand him drafts that were still messy, half-formed – long before they resembled anything I’d be comfortable submitting.
He’d respond and tell me what was working, and what wasn’t.

He was my editor, my critic, and a cheerleader.
He helped me keep moving along my path and ultimately become the person who went to Harvard.

Looking back, however, I realize how many people held me up along the way – and how important each act of support really was.

I'd like to share that list here, in case some part of it resonates with you or helps you map out your own next steps and build an ecosystem of support.

• A Jessup coach, who had done an LL.M. at Harvard himself, reviewed my Harvard personal statement Part B.
• A colleague from Noerr, who did his LL.M. at Berkeley, shared the resources he had used, and also read my personal statement.
• That same colleague referred me to an American proofreader, who gave me comments. I actually didn’t accept a lot of them – but the process of seeing my essay through another lens helped.
• During my internship at the Association for International Arbitration in Brussels, I asked one of the managers for help with my CV and cover letter for arbitration law firms in Paris and Brussels – and she reviewed them and gave me thoughtful feedback. I later used a lot of that writing for my MIDS application.
• When applying for postdocs, I reached out to a mix of people to comment on my research proposal: friends I trusted, my then-PhD supervisor, my academic hosts. As a result, I got four prestigious postdoc offers.
• When choosing topics for my LL.M. and later my PhD at the European University Institute, I consulted with professors I knew on research topics to consider.
• To improve my writing, I initiated a writer’s group at the EUI. There were five of us – including the head of the language center – and we’d exchange 3–5 pages and give each other comments.
• A friend from the EUI became someone I consistently consulted about navigating the academic world. We commented on each other’s CVs and supporting statements. Her ability to de-personalize the issues I tend to personalize, especially rejections, helped me more than I can say.
• And then, there were countless others I approached for information. Some I met at events like the Paris Arbitration Academy; others I actively sought out in my circle of friends and colleagues. One of them – my Rousseau coach, who later studied at Cambridge – was, for a critical time in my life, like an older sister and model I could look up to. She was rarely available, always in a busy-bee mode, but she always helped me interrupt the pathological train of self-deprecating thought in my brain and get back on track.
 

Support can come in many forms. Sometimes it looks like detailed feedback of a draft. Other times, it will be just someone listening, responding, and holding space for work-in-progress.

What Does You Universe of Support Look Like? Your Life Team Exercise

An exercise I learned to do in therapy – one that informs a lot of what I do now as an admissions advisor – is called a life team.

It sounds almost deceptively simple: you list your sources of support.
But something beautiful happens when you actually sit down and do it. You start to see that support looks different for everyone. You find sources of support that may seem unexpected. Other times, you realize that what you thought was support… really isn’t.

Some people are lucky to have supportive family members. Others are not.
A theme that I noticed among my clients is this: the people who come to me are usually the ones who don’t have an immediate support network in their parents or extended families.
They’re not surrounded by people who went to elite universities.
Often, they are the ones who dare to break the conditioning of their environment and go against the quiet (or loud) voice that tells them what they’re allowed to achieve, and what not.

Support can take many forms. It doesn’t always look like the classic or direct type of help.

For me, support once looked like an acquaintance who invited me to a dance class after I’d just received a painful academic rejection, when all I had planned on doing was to sit at home and cry. I went out, danced, came back, reviewed the rejected application, realized I wouldn’t have admitted myself either… and applied again. That time, I aimed even higher – and got into Harvard.

Support can be an article about someone crowdfunding for their Oxford degree, discovered when all hope feels lost, and thinking, maybe I could try that too - I have nothing to lose.

It can be a book club where you share your favorite story, like Pollyanna, and someone gives you an insight that eventually inspires a portion of your Harvard essay.

It can be your sister helping you film a video for the crowdfunding campaign, because you've never done anything like it and feel awkward.

It can be Nanette by Hannah Gadsby – a piece of art that makes you feel a little less alone in this world.

It can be a Sinead O’Connor song that gives you a new way to think about your early background. Or it can be reading her story and thinking, if she overcame that, maybe I can overcome what I’m dealing with too.

It can be something unrelated, like a hobby – like doing standup – that will ignite your creativity and give you the energy you need to persevere with your applications.

It can be a person who doesn’t even know you that well but amplifies you with something they say.

It can be a yoga routine you keep coming back to, to clear your head and get some distance from whatever’s consuming your thoughts.

It can be a dog.

Or someone who isn’t alive anymore.

When you do this exercise – when you list your life team, your universe of support – you uncover something precious: your support system is unique. It may not look like anyone else’s. It may not look like what you thought the 'right' system of support should look like. But it’s what sustained you.

It also helps you see where something or someone you thought was supportive really isn’t.

The universe of support is often a series of people, moments, insights, and interventions that showed up in your life at different points in time – and helped you move forward.

So What Does an Admissions Coach Do?

An admissions coach is a bit like an all-in-one.

They’re not just someone who gives feedback — they’re someone who helps you navigate the whole process, who understands the terrain, and who can hold the complexity of your story while helping you shape it.

At first glance, it may seem strange that someone would pay for this kind of support. Especially when you can ask a friend, join a writer’s group, or read advice online.

And the truth is: it is relatively easy to find free help.

You can ask a colleague. You can send a draft to a family member. You can Google “how to write a personal statement” and try to piece things together yourself or ask ChatGPT to write one for you.

But unfortunately, free help is not always good help.

It can be, and if you’ve found someone who’s knowledgeable, supportive, generous with their time and offers detailed, constructive feedback freely —hold on to them. Truly. It’s a gift.

But not all free help works this way. In fact, some of it can be damaging.

Take the American who proofread my essay. He offered some really harsh critique, especially on the metaphors I had used. He didn’t understand them —and, honestly, I don’t think he even tried. His obvious solution was to discard them altogether.
But I had to disagree with a lot of his feedback. It just didn’t sit right with me.

Same with a colleague of mine who had applied to Harvard but wasn’t admitted. He gave comments on the leadership angle of my essay, but his feedback was misplaced. It was clear he was projecting his own experience — and not really seeing mine.

Then there was the writer’s group I was part of at the EUI. It was terrific — one of the most helpful and inspiring spaces I’ve ever been part of. But it also was a volunteer activity for everyone involved. You can’t expect too much from people who have already decided to gift you their time and attention.
They’re not going to spend hours revising your writing or obsessing over every word. We’d get 15 minutes each — and you had to make the most of it.

You also can’t expect too much from a family member. My ex-partner, who patiently commented on multiple drafts, could only go so far. He could give feedback on the most basic things — but he didn’t know how to work with stories, what to bring forward, or what to leave out.

The same with ChatGPT which, at least at this stage, is really only helpful when you already know what you’re doing. It works well when you’ve already walked 9 out of 10 steps and need help with the last one.
I’ve seen people who let ChatGPT rewrite their essays to the point where their voice is no longer recognizable.

I’ve also seen people who had AI write their essays from scratch — but because they weren’t effective writers themselves, the input they gave was too unfocused, and what came out was generic and lifeless.

And then, there’s a whole other layer. I often work with people, often women, who’ve been taught by their environment that nothing they do counts. That nothing they do is ever enough. That reaching for the stars is absurd because, really, when are they going to get married and have babies — which is supposedly their duty and first priority. This happened to a moot court team member I coached, who voiced her desire to do an LL.M. in France to the family and received a severe backlash.

Or maybe no one ever told them that directly. But they just never had a true supporter in their life, no one to silence that inner voice that says, who am I to try that? to even want that? Only endless requirements and obligations to uphold.

This is where an admissions coach comes in.

A coach tells you: You don’t have to tolerate this.
You have a strong profile — because of a, b, c — and you are worthy of moving forward.
You can learn what you need to learn. You can grow.
You don’t need to silence your voice or shrink your story.
Let me help you make it louder and more persuasive. Let me help you write the best LL.M. application you can.

Admissions coaching is a profession that has emerged in response to the changes in the education landscape over the last few decades.

There was once a time when getting into Harvard — or any top university — was mostly reserved for those whose parents had already gone there.
Those who had access to the unspoken rules, networks, and resources.
A degree from top 20 world’s universities used to be a business of privilege.

Fortunately, that world is now crumbling.

Today, more and more people from underrepresented and non-traditional backgrounds are daring to apply — and they deserve support that’s tailored, strategic, and empowering.

So what does an LL.M. admissions coach really do?

It’s far more than just editorial support.

A coach helps you reach an educational and professional dream.

It’s not just about “making sentences prettier” — although that’s part of the process, too.

It’s about transformation.
It’s about moving from someone who talks about applying to a top-tier institution like Harvard — who dreams of it, circles around it — to someone who has done it.
To someone who has created an application they’re proud of.
To someone who knows how to tell their story, and stand by it.

And this is why having the right kind of support matters — not just any feedback, but the kind that sees you, that amplifies your voice instead of replacing it, and that reminds you that what you have to say is already enough to begin with.

Final Thoughts

This is the philosophy that guides my work with clients.

I wrote this post in response to the many questions I’ve received while supporting people through their LL.M., Ph.D., scholarship, and other application journeys.

If you’re thinking about seeking help with your applications, whether from me or someone else, I hope this gave you a clearer sense of what that support can look like, and what working with me would feel like in practice.

If you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to reach out.

📬 If you’re looking for tailored, thoughtful guidance on your application—whether it's brainstorming your story, reviewing your essays, or figuring out where to start — you are welcome to get in touch for 1:1 support. I’d love to help you move forward.