As I approach the final months of my Junior year, my anxiety levels have been thriving. It seems like everyone but me has “it” figured out. Each time I sit down at my desk, my 2019 giant pad calendar tells me that I’m a little closer to the end of the semester. And, with the end of the semester comes the time to put your life plan into motion. The stress of not knowing what I want, what I’m good at, what I should “be” is increasingly weighing on me.
The year-by-year breakdown of college according to me:
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Freshman year: students are given easier class, lots of slack, and little to no expectations on their future plans.
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Sophomore year: expectations are somewhat higher and majors must be declared.
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Junior year: you are expected to know what your plans are (or at least have a strong idea) and be actively buffering your resume/portfolio/research/etc. In order to have a great application(s) for jobs/grad school/med school/law school/volunteer programs/fellowships/etc.
Roughly three months are left of my Junior year and here is my college experience in numbers:
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One fake ID confiscated
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Two failed career projects
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Three anti-depression medications
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Four months of studying abroad
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Five broken iPhone chargers
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Six rejection letters from literary magazines
Courtesy: Giphy
Additionally, I have a solid skill set of things no one cares about:
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I know all the words to Hilary Duff’s “Metamorphosis” CD.
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I can do four cartwheels in a row.
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I wrote a 25 page paper in Italian on multi-cultural cinema.
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I can give you directions to every thrift store in Northeast Ohio.
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My average reading time is 94 pages-an-hour.
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I can hum all 32 of Beethoven’s sonatas by heart.
Courtesy: Giphy
While most of my peers have their 5-year-plans memorized, like my best friend who is in Chicago doing a bougie accounting internship, I’m busy questioning my entire existence. It is not that I am lazy or disinterested, I’m genuinely confused. I know some people are looking for their “calling” or their “thing”. In some ways that may be easier than my position: I am interested in everything. My interests and goals reorient more times daily than I can even count (cliché, I know). I feel like I am trapped in a medieval dismemberment device with each of my passions pulling on a limb.
In essence, I’m petrified. I’m sure that I’m not alone in feeling this way, but it truly feels like I am. The business majors are a given when it comes to plans, but my fellow humanities majors? You guys are leaving me in the dust (yes, another cliché). I’m coming to terms with the fact that it will take me longer to figure out what I’m doing than everyone else- and that’s ok (I guess). To everyone as lost as me, here’s to figuring our s**t out!
Courtesy: Giphy