In 2017, I proudly wrote “CU 2021” in my Instagram bio as if it were a badge of honour that I would be done with my degree in four years, applying to law school, achieving my unattainable goals. As young as 15, I had imagined myself taking the LSAT at 20, applying to schools at 21, starting law school at 22, and I was determined to stay on that path.
Now, I am 21, I’ve never taken the LSAT, and have never touched an admissions application for law school. I changed my major to Philosophy and added two minors, with hopes to complete an MA and Ph.D. in Philosophy, and I won’t graduate until 2023. So, what happened?
For a long time, I viewed this as a failure. I’m not sure if it’s America or just suburbia, but the community I was raised in and the school I graduated from pushed university onto students from a young age. I remember learning ACT (American College Test) test strategies as young as sixth grade. There was immense pressure to go to college or university and choose a prestigious career. This is why, at 15, knowing I didn’t have the skills or interest to pursue a STEM career and that humanities are “useless,” I decided I would eventually go to law school. This became my personality and main goal in life. I decided to get there. I would study Political Science and French because having one major wasn’t enough. I didn’t even explore other Concordia programs because I was so sure of myself and the future that I wanted.
Once I began university; however, I had the realization that I hated studying Political Science, I was terrible at French classes. I cried at the thought of eventually attending law school because I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t really what I wanted. I wondered what happened to my motivation, the determination I had years before. When I changed my program to Philosophy, I fell in love with what I was studying and knew I had finally made the right choice. However, with the two minors, I added, and when I lost being sick during my first two years, I realized I would not be able to finish my degree by 2021. I wouldn’t finish at the same time as my high school friends. I wouldn’t be applying to grad schools or getting the praise I desperately craved from my family and friends. I felt like I failed at being the perfect student my hometown had raised me to be.
Maybe it’s Canada, maybe it’s the community I’m surrounded by, but I learned to be thankful for the extra two years I have to collect myself and get my life back together. I found that it’s perfectly normal to take four or more years to finish a degree, and nobody at Concordia finds it particularly weird or worrisome when I mention that I’m a fourth-year and nowhere close to finishing my degree. After I stopped focusing on getting accepted into law school and more time figuring out what I wanted to accomplish, I felt better with myself. I was able to succeed in my classes.
Now that I’m in my fourth year, people assume I’m graduating soon or that it’s my last year. It’s not, and I’m okay with it. This extra time is a chance to fix the mistakes I made, improve my GPA, and eventually apply to an honours degree, goals I wouldn’t be able to accomplish if I was finishing my degree this year. If I continued on the path of perceived success instead of actual fulfillment and success, I wouldn’t have these opportunities. Now I have extra time to be involved on campus, have a job, and learn skills I wouldn’t have achieved otherwise. I’m still considering studying law later on, but I’ve learned that it’s not the end of the world if I don’t, and does not define my self-worth.
There’s no timeline for reaching the milestones that my suburban American culture equated with success. They don’t even need to be achieved at all. Each person and their lived experiences and abilities are so vastly different from one another, and as a society, we need to accept this. Success for everybody looks different. In my case, although the intentions were good, the ideals instilled in me during my high school years didn’t help me thrive. They held me back from living the life that was fit for me. Instead of motivating me to be a better student and person, it ruined my self-esteem and made me feel stupid and inferior to my classmates. Success for everybody looks different, and we need to create a culture that embraces that idea, rather than perpetuating a culture built on toxic perfectionism.