When I first started college, I thought everyone around me had a clear plan. Some people already knew their majors, future internships, five-year goals, and even where they wanted to live after graduation. Meanwhile, I woke up some mornings unsure of what I wanted for lunch, let alone my entire future. I worried that I was falling behind, that I was missing something everyone else seemed to understand. It took me a long time—and a few humbling moments—to realize that uncertainty isn’t a flaw. It’s actually part of what makes the college experience meaningful.
There wasn’t a single dramatic moment that changed me. Instead, it was a series of small realizations. Like the time I sat in a classroom surrounded by people enthusiastically discussing their dream careers, and I felt completely blank. Or when I tried following someone else’s “perfect study routine,” only to burn out by week three. Or when I forced myself into extracurriculars that looked good on paper but made me feel drained every time I showed up. I kept waiting for a sudden wave of clarity to hit me, but it never came.
What eventually did come was acceptance.
At some point—maybe halfway through a semester—I noticed that the people who seemed the most “put together” were actually changing their plans all the time. A friend who had declared a science major confidently switched to art history. Someone from my high school who seemed destined for law school suddenly applied to accounting internships. Even the people who looked like they had it all figured out were navigating uncertainty too; they just didn’t talk about it.
That realization softened something inside me. I stopped expecting myself to have a perfect, linear plan and started paying attention to the things that genuinely made me feel curious or alive. And slowly, things began to make sense—not because I magically figured out my future, but because I allowed myself to explore without pressure.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that college isn’t a place where you’re supposed to have every answer. It’s a place where you gather the tools to find them. It’s a place where you try things, fail at things, and unexpectedly fall in love with things you never thought you would. The value isn’t in the certainty; it’s in the process of figuring things out.
I also began to understand that comparison is one of the biggest sources of stress. It’s so easy to look at someone else’s path and assume they’re ahead. But the truth is, everyone’s timeline is different. Some people bloom early. Some find their passion late. Some completely reinvent themselves halfway through. None of these paths is more “correct” than another.
If you’re reading this and you feel lost, here’s something I wish someone had told me earlier: uncertainty does not mean failure. It means you’re still growing. It means you’re still gathering experiences that will shape who you become. It means you haven’t closed yourself off to possibilities.
College is one of the few times in life when it’s okay—maybe even necessary—to not have everything figured out. You don’t need a master plan to be doing well. You don’t need to know your dream job to be on the right path. You don’t need to have your life mapped out to be worthy of confidence and self-trust.
These days, when someone asks me what my future plans are, I don’t panic the way I used to. I answer honestly: “I’m still figuring it out.” And I mean it in the best way. Because figuring it out is not a sign of weakness—it’s a sign that I’m still open to learning, exploring, and changing.