How a combination of hustle culture and creative stigma tried to steal my college years… and how I’m working to get them back.
Feminist writer Courtney Martin once wrote: “We are the daughters of the feminists who said, ‘You can be anything,’ and we heard, ‘You have to be everything.'” While this quote has a ton of nuance and refers to lived experiences that I do not have, it still made me rethink some of my own philosophies.
Discovering Creative Stigma
I can’t quite remember the first time I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. As a kid, any answer I gave was received with a nod and a smile. It seemed like a simple question with endless possibilities, but as I got older, the possibilities became less endless. When it became obvious that I was serious about going into a creative field, the nods and smiles started to decrease.
When entering college, I decided to double major in journalism and communication. As a fan of writing, multimedia, design, and internet culture, these majors seemed to be the best fit. But this decision was not easy.
When I tell people about my majors, they often ask what I plan to do with them. It’s a valid question and one that I still struggle to answer. Then, there are endless jokes about communications majors and their lack of real assignments.
As a woman, navigating these stigmas and jokes is a bit tougher. It’s no secret that women have had to fight to be heard in all kinds of fields. Women that thrive in STEM are seen as breaking barriers or simply iconic girl bosses. So, when I chose to not be this iconic woman in STEM, it felt like I was throwing all my potential away. When both your identity and the field you enjoy are undervalued, it can be hard to feel like anything that you do matters.
Trying to be Everything
To combat these feelings, I decided it was not enough to just be a student, I had to start establishing myself now. As I started college, I felt immense pressure to prove that my creative interests could be turned into something real…and I succumbed to it.
Over the next year or so, I took on tons of creative and non-creative projects and commitments, involving anything and everything from research-heavy articles to graphic design to audio editing. It was amazing but also awful. I became this multifaceted artist, but I was working all of the time, eating alone, and wishing my college years away. I was so insistent on proving my place in the world that I never realized how hard I was working and how burnt out I was.
To make matters worse, I enjoyed all the work I was doing. It wasn’t until my friends questioned if all creative majors have so many side projects that I realized this wasn’t normal. It wasn’t normal to be so insistent on proving yourself that you apply to 20 internships in one day. It wasn’t normal to feel so guilty that you haven’t written an article in two months that you can’t sleep. It wasn’t normal to reduce your extreme passions to something you maybe sorta like just because people might see them as stupid or worthless.
Finding a Balance & Taking My Creativity Back
It was at this point that I decided that quitting something doesn’t make you a quitter. For me, prioritizing joy allowed me to see which projects I took on because they enhance my life and which I took on so people would perceive me a certain way. I stopped going to club meetings just because of obligation. I stopped telling myself that rest needed to be earned. Making the amount on my plate smaller actually made my life feel more whole than ever.
Ironically enough, this mindset actually led me to a new creative project: my podcast, Girl Talk. What made Girl Talk different is that I vowed that it would be just for fun. While it may not be considered “real audio journalism,” I wanted a place where I could combat the idea that women’s voices are only relevant when they are smart and super articulate.
While I market the podcast as being biweekly, I do not hold myself to that schedule if I don’t want to. I have guests on sometimes, but I also prioritize finding my own voice and letting it shine through. Most importantly, I use it as a creative outlet where I can actually be myself and share my true passions.
If there’s one thing this mess has taught me, it’s that it’s ok to have a messy journey. While you’re figuring out what balance works for you, I encourage you to prioritize joy. Find the things that actually make you happy and talk about them… even if they aren’t necessarily intellectual.