Every spare moment was spent devouring every book on real estate development and finance that I could get my hands on, scrutinizing dozens of academic case studies, making flashcards for terms I was unfamiliar with, and building budgets for fun.

Why?

Because I was about to show up for my first day on campus — at Harvard.

And my imposter syndrome was bigger than a Kardashian caboose. 

👉 As a species, we learn a little bit from books. We learn a little bit from teachers. We learn a little bit from practice.

👉 But we learn the most by surrounding ourselves with wickedly smart, agile, and curious people who truly care about us. 

And now — the story behind why this advice matters. 👇

I wanted to. I tried to. I was smart enough. (I think.)

But it just never really worked out for me — partly because of circumstances like money and options, but mostly because I was a stubborn, impatient little asshole who walked out of the womb determined to be self-reliant.

And while college certainly isn’t the antithesis of self-reliance, it does delay it.

It’s hard to make enough money to be self-reliant when you’re busy writing term papers and showing up for class. So instead committing to the collegiate path, I decided to fudge my resume to get jobs I wasn’t qualified for, thinking:

“Why would I pay to learn stuff when I can get paid to learn stuff?”

As immature, short-sighted, and dishonest as that was, it worked out for me — and my employers. Because once I got the jobs I was unqualified for, I was incentivized (by money) to work harder than everyone else.

And as soon as I had some experience under my belt, I started my first business at the obnoxiously know-it-all age of 21.

The rest is history. I had a great career. Folks were shocked when I told them I didn’t have a degree. And I always told myself that if not having a degree ever prohibited me from taking the next step in my career, I would go back to school.

That never happened.

But about 15 years into adulthood, I began to feel stagnant — not in my career per se, but with my personal growth and world outlook. I didn’t need an education — I wanted one. But I had a pretty big barrier… the kind of education I wanted was an advanced degree… but I barely had a high-school diploma.

I had heard that there were some Executive MBA programs that didn’t require tertiary prerequisites, but after researching them, I found that most of them were, well, crap.

On a whim, I decided switch up my search criteria to include the term “real estate” (the industry I worked in), and came across a school I had never dreamed to consider—

Harvard.

Harvard Business School doesn’t offer an Executive MBA, but Harvard Graduate School of Design offers a comparable Executive Real Estate program. And it looked absolutely perfect.

To even apply, they required 15 years of experience, and two letters of recommendation from recognizable leadership figures (one of which I obtained from the legendary Frank Supovitz 🙏 ).

But they didn’t require a bachelor’s degree.

So I applied — thinking I didn’t have a shot in hell. It was Harvard, for christ’s sake.

Then...

I was instantly overcome with a confusing cocktail of:

This was going to be an intense and life-consuming endeavor. And expensive as hell.

So I had to honestly ask myself — was it worth it?

I began crafting a cost-benefit analysis to answer that question… And my husband threw it in the garbage.

“You’re going,” he announced. Then he walked out of the room. Mic drop. He cut through my bullshit, and pointed out what should have been obvious — this was an unmissable opportunity.

So I wrote Harvard a big fat check, and started preparing for what was sure to be the most transformative year of my life.

When the faculty sent over the required reading for the first two weeks of class, I printed it all out, and filled two 3-inch binders with case studies alone. That was on top of all the books and articles that were strongly encouraged.

I immediately cancelled a vacation I had planned to France before first term, and spent an entire month ignoring everything else in my life so I could study until I went cross-eyed. If I was nervous before, now I was one twitch away from tears every damn day.

And finally, it was time.

Anxiety was humming under my skin when I finally arrived at Harvard’s iconic campus, and stepped into Wasserstein Hall for my class’s welcome reception.

“Hey, it’s the ice skater,” bellowed a California accent from across the room.

An energetic man with a toothy smile darted over to introduce himself. He was one of my new classmates, and led the real estate division of the company that owned the Anaheim Ducks NHL team.

His name was Ian, he had read my bio and wanted to talk hockey, and to my great relief, he was the least intimidating person imaginable.

I unclenched a little bit.

Then I started encountering more classmates — all friendly, curious, and just as jittery as I was. Somehow, being in a group of people who are all nervous made everyone less nervous.

Once we all checked-in, the faculty ushered us into an event space, gave us alcohol, and split us into study groups with whom we were instructed to prepare for each day’s case studies.

Then, like a scene from The Amazing Race, they shot a metaphoric starting pistol, and told us all to grab our group mates and get to work. Have plans for tonight? Not anymore. You’re gonna spend tonight prepping the f*ck out of tomorrow’s case studies with a group of strangers.

Holy moly. This was real.

We all rushed out of Wasserstein Hall, and three different study groups ended up at the same restaurant near campus. After a short discussion about the following day’s case studies, the conversation shifted to a far more interesting topic — each other. We ordered another round, and got to know one another.

…Oh, why don’t we share a bottle of wine and chat some more?...

…Where did these cocktails come from? Gosh, y’all are funnn…

…Tequila shots? Well, if you insist… 😵‍💫

I stumbled home, and suffered the terrifying realization that I was unquestionably drunk. And tomorrow, beginning at 9am sharp, was our first day of class. 🤦

So, I endured my first official day at Harvard with one of the worst hangovers of my life.

(Hey, at least I made it to class.)

Despite months of preparation, my mind felt cloudy, and I was cursing myself for my inability to jump into the conversation with creative insights that were on the tip of my tongue.

But that evening, when one of my classmates suggested we all go out again, I rallied. This became our normal routine. I grew accustomed to being hyped-up at night, and hazy in class.

Back then, I couldn’t identify the logic that pushed me to prioritize socializing over academics. It seemed ludicrous that I didn’t posses enough self-control to choose an early night hitting the books above drinking into the wee hours with friends when I knew I had intense classes the next day.

But I now realize that every minute that I spent with these people absolutely electrified me. They came from all over the world. They had unique perspectives, fascinating stories, and most importantly, they made me feel wanted and valued.

So in hindsight, it’s unmistakable — I had found my tribe. The sense of belonging this group offered me far surpassed all the other advantages Harvard delivered.

As a species, we learn a little bit from books. We learn a little bit from teachers. We learn a little bit from practice.

But we learn the most by surrounding ourselves with wickedly smart, agile, and curious people who truly care about us. 

This is what I missed out on by skipping college when I was young. I was only focused on outcomes, and not on relationships. I thought I could have success, or I could have friends — but not both.

What a shitty way to think.

After graduation (yes… I somehow made it to graduation), I became hooked on keeping the tribe alive. I visited my classmates all over the world, and joined the Leadership Board of our Alumni Association to spearhead new programs to keep everyone engaged and connected, long after we left Harvard Yard.

And in 2024, I received another unexpected email from Harvard asking if I —a loser without a degree who was hungover for all my classes— would consider joining the program on the instructor side.

I’m now in my second year as an advisor, and just returned home from a galvanizing term on campus, getting acquainted with this year’s killer students in the classroom — and in the bar. 🍸

As usual, it’s going to take me weeks to come down off this high.

And for my liver to recover.

Cheers! 🍻

-Kristin