Sometimes I feel like I’m torn between two worlds.
I’m going to let you in on a little secret: 90% of my decision to double major was because I wanted to delay making a decision about my future for as long as possible. I knew that I wanted to major in English, because reading and writing have always been what I enjoy most in the world. My interest in communication sciences and disorders (CS&D), though, was a bit more spontaneous; while doing a bit of research on the UW–Madison majors page to kill time one day, the listing for CS&D caught my eye. I had a brief stint in speech therapy as a child, so I knew enough about the field to predict that I’d probably enjoy it. I signed up for some CS&D classes the next semester, officially declared my double major, and the rest is history.
Three years later, I’m happy to say that I don’t regret double majoring or my choice of majors at all. I’ve loved engaging in lively discussions about literature in my English classes and learning about speech-language pathology and audiology in my CS&D lectures. I’ve worked hard in all my classes, taken advantage of unique opportunities in each field, and made some great friends along the way. I didn’t realize when I signed up for each of these majors, though, I was also signing up for a daily battle with imposter syndrome.
Having two majors that I love meant that I could see two different yet equally plausible career paths that my life could take: speech-language pathologist or editor. I would align myself with one major for a while, and then the next day I’d learn something new and exciting in class for my other major and mentally jump ship. This mental gymnastics was exhausting and frustrating, especially since it seemed like my single-major peers felt confident in their post-graduation plans. I, on the other hand, found myself wondering how I would ever choose which path to focus, especially since I am infamously indecisive.
I thought that I would just know which major spoke to me more if I gave myself enough time, so I tried to get more involved in the world of each major, hoping that something would spark a decision. I joined a pre-professional organization for CS&D students and began a communications internship that made my English major heart happy. I established myself firmly in both worlds so that I’d have the flexibility to pursue either avenue, but in doing so, I never felt like I fully belonged to either community.
It wasn’t until this past summer that I realized that, for the moment, my passion and drive lie with English and publishing. I was thrilled to finally have a concrete goal in mind, but the decision has caused my imposter syndrome to flare up in my CS&D classes. While the majority of my CS&D peers are in the midst of applying to grad school and envisioning their futures as speech-language pathologists and audiologists, I feel like I’m acting out a part in a play.
I’ve noticed, though, that the more times I tell people about my future goals, the more my self-confidence grows. Instead of downplaying my decision as a “hope” or a “dream,” I’m phrasing it as a “plan” to help me manifest the life I want to be living a year from now.
Some people graduate college still not knowing what they’re passionate about. I’ve been lucky enough to find not one but two majors that I feel perfectly suit my interests. I’m not saying that I’ll never change my mind and pursue a CS&D-related career—there’s a reason that I wanted to leave the door open for grad school in the future, so I’m certainly not ruling it out. But I have to tell myself that it’s okay to be confident in my goals, even if they look different from the dreams of the people around me. Every step I’ve taken in my college career has led me to where I am today.