I always thought I was gonna be a journalist. I always loved to write, I was always writing every one else’s papers in class, it was my pleasure to do so and I felt like I could write the assignment every way I wanted to.
But then I graduated high school and the choices I had regarding journalism didn’t seem really appealing. If I knew then what I know now, I’d realize those were my fears. Going to the unknown, with not one of my friends in tow. I was someone that relied a lot on the presence of her friends to get her through change. In middle school I always wanted to be in the same class as my friends, in high school as well, and as history showed I kept the habit all though college.
I chose the safest option, and I went and studied management like everybody else. I wasn’t ecstatic about my choice, but at least I had familiar faces around me. I was an only child till I was eight, while every one of my friends had little brothers or sisters, I always felt terribly alone, so the presence of people I loved was something I hang on to for dear life. I didn’t do loneliness well, I didn’t know how to be independent. I was so dependent. And so very afraid of being by myself.
Looking back I don’t know if I would have taken the same path; at the same time I think that everything I went through at each point of my life made me who I am today, and I like who I am, so maybe changing even the littlest thing would make my life completely different, made me completely different.
So yeah I don’t necessarily regret my choices, and I think being a journalist is not off the list. It’s not too late, I can still do what I want. But is it what I want? Sure I still love to write, but is it what I love the most ? You think you’re so sure of yourself and your choices at a young age, but are you really ever ?
I honestly don’t know. Because I love to write, but I also love to photograph, I love to cook and bake, I love interior design, and I’m pretty good at these things, so does it mean that I have to make all of these my careers? Maybe I’m just good at different things, that I’m a passionate person that gets way too intense and doesn’t do things casually. Or maybe I should combine all these things and come up with a great idea that would allow me to make a living out of what I love.
I used to think that not knowing for sure made me different and that was bad, I did not fit in because I wasn’t a 100% positive of what I wanted. That I could be a thousand things at once and not one of them at all. I couldn’t tell you what I wish my life would look like. I didn’t know if I wanted to be a baker, a life coach, a photographer or a travel journalist (all these are real interests and not just random career paths I’m throwing out there fyi). But I think eventually I came up with the conclusion that I didn’t need to have a career path at all to be happy. I didn’t need to spend five years here and two there and make my resume grow but myself die. I needed a job sure, who doesn’t in this god-awful economy, but I’m not looking for a career anymore. I can’t define myself and I don’t want to. A job is not who I am, it’s just what I do.
And I’m at a point in my life where I’m mostly happy I get to write about it instead of angsting and feeling all emo and lost. I guess that’s called growing up. It’s a nice feeling.