Most of our lives thus far have been following a nicely laid out path. For as long as we can remember, we have been in school. For many of us, going to college after high school graduation was assumed. Motivated, driven, and eager, we showed up on our first day of college ready to learn all new things both inside and outside of the classroom. We were excited to make friends, develop close relationships with professors, find our passions and choose a major that reflected them, attend parties, and stay up late to have challenging conversations. It is that last part we need to be mindful of. From a senior perspective, I’d argue that having those conversations with peers are some of the most significant moments of my college career.
My freshman year I was worried about picking the right major and subsequently getting a good job. I changed my mind so many times. I took a neuroscience class because I thought maybe I could major in neuroscience. It sounded prestigious and glamorous, a new field that I could leave a mark in. Turns out, I know nothing about the parts of the brain. Then I considered applying to the School of Management. My advisor helped me realize business was not my passion. I opened up to my advisor, friends, roommate, and parents coming to the realization that psychology is what I am most interested in. In many ways it still is even though I did not apply to graduate school. As a freshman I thought I had to have it all together and honestly, I still don’t. I’ll probably change my mind a million more times until I decide on a career. But it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I opened up to others and figured out what was best for me.
Those late night conversations you have throughout college can include a variety of topics: politics, sports, education, religion and perhaps the most important one, yourself. I encourage you to talk about yourself. Your previous experiences most likely shaped your beliefs and opinions about all other topics. You deserve to tell your story and I guarantee there are friends, roommates, classmates, staff, and professors that want to hear it. Don’t be afraid to express who you are and tell them everything. How you perceive yourself, where you have been, what you have done, and lastly, where you want to go. As you talk about yourself to others, some things may become clearer to you about who you are. There is no shame in saying, “I don’t know what’s next.”
We don’t talk about ourselves enough. We don’t always say what we are thinking. We are scared that if we say what’s really going on that people will perceive us differently. We want to appear happy and normal. The truth is if we keep telling ourselves we are, we begin to believe it. But this anxiety and fear that we sometimes experience in the pit of our stomachs needs to be expressed just as much as our hopes and dreams. You are allowed to feel this way and when you do, open up and tell someone. Chances are they have felt this way too.
It is easy to brush these feelings under the rug. It is easy to save face. You show up and go through the motions, following the path that has been nicely laid out. And then, panic sets in because you have come to the end of this path. For the first time, you determine what is next. It is up to you to choose and it is scary as hell.
Paralyzed. It’s the best way I can describe this feeling that I’m sure many other seniors also feel. It is that fear of the unknown. You try to picture what’s next and what you could see yourself doing. Where you could see yourself happy. It is unchartered territory and it’s daunting. You don’t want to disappoint people. Yet, you don’t know how to move forward. You can’t picture it. It’s okay not to know. This is the moment where you identify that it’s okay not to know. The moment where you realize you need to talk to someone, and open up about how you are feeling. Do it.
As a senior, I can honestly say I’m not sure what is next. I still struggle with knowing and not knowing what I want to do in life. I don’t know if the job I accepted is something I want to pursue. I don’t know how to do my taxes or pay my utilities bill or take care of a plant or cook. I don’t know if I’ll last 60 seconds or 60 days in the real world. But what I do know is that I’m not alone. What I do know is that it’s okay to open up.