It’s okay to have no idea what you’re doing with your life

To those of you that have your college plans all laid out and are excited for it: good for you, go read a book. To the rest, read on.

Let’s go back to high school.  Not literally — dear God, we all just barely made it out the first time.

Ninth grade: When I entertained the idea of going to UW

Staring down the lazy days of Senior Spring, it felt like all I was told again and again was that I was moving on to a place of greater opportunity. Before I was sixteen, I’d never had a grade size larger than fifty, and my high school graduating class was under 200. So when I told the curious that I was headed to University of Michigan, many eyes widened. “That’s a huge school!” 

Believe me. I know: I’ve tried to get a coffee on game days. Yet Michigan’s size was exactly what drew me to it (hold in the joke). I’d been led to believe, both through my own ideology and what I’d been taught, that college was a time for exploration of both the personal and academic self.       

The graduation face — “dear lord am I ready to explore”

When I was thirteen, I already knew I wanted to counsel adolescents. Though many things changed as I grew older — the pink left my hair, I tried and liked kale — my desire for the same profession only intensified. It wasn’t an unfounded desire either. I worked with adolescents through high school, both as a peer mentor and in a position with the counseling center. Yet somewhere between receiving my diploma and the end of my first year of college, a couple newfound dislikes and many new interests made me question the pathway I’d set up for myself. You could say I was poisoned by opportunity.

However, that only looks at the negative side of today’s college transition. For many of us, we go from being told about the great beyond of self discovery, to being asked constantly, often at family functions, what exactly we plan to do with our lives, starting at the micro level of majors.  

Selecting a major…much like perusing the shelves of the Dawn Treader with your eyes closed

Now, I’m not a proponent of indecisiveness, but I also don’t believe in making a decision until I fully understand what my options are.  At huge universities, or really any setting like college that presents us with many paths, we have to first know ourselves (usually through discovering what we do and don’t like) to understand which path will fulfill us most. That takes developing the crucial skill of listening to and trusting your gut. You might be asking, why on Earth is this girl up here spewing clichés? Because the anxieties I hear daily from myself and others are all centered on the cliché: what’s next?

Often when I ask this question, I’m reminded of what my sister said to me over roast beef sandwiches one August morning circa 2014.  (Roast beef sandwiches and hot days = disgusting idea.)

Someone I ask for advice way too often

My sister, who is very successful both in the American standard sense and the happiness sense, imparted some wisdom before I started here: “Get a degree, Deirdre, get a degree in something and get out. Chances are you won’t know what you want to do until you’re older, or you’ll change your mind, so take the time in college to just get a degree in something and begin figuring out who you are.”  

I’ll modify it a bit, because tuition is too high to totally go rogue: get a degree in something that fulfills you. I now refuse to view my degree path as synonymous with the career I’ll have for the rest of my life.

Does this look like the face of decisive career stability?

So, dear reader, know this: Don’t be afraid to have no idea what you want to do with the rest of your life. That’s hopefully a really long time to settle for just one thing. Just don’t let fear, anxiety, parents, or whatever you call the monster under your bed hinder you from moving forward. I was in a psychopathology class last semester when the professor stopped mid-lecture and asked, “How many of you are worried about your college careers?” The majority of us raised our hands, and he nodded, pleased, and said, “Good. You still recognize how many options you have.”

So keep moving, and keep learning what you do and don’t like.

(And write for the Tab.)