A close friend told me two weeks ago, “You’re not having a midlife crisis, you’re having a breakdown.”
I guess to some extent she was right, but I feel like “midlife crisis” is a far more… pleasant description than the term “breakdown.” I’m not even near the point of turning 40, or 50, or even 25. I’ve always been so sure about everything in life before, so why do I suddenly have no idea what I want?
I was always the person who knew what she wanted to do with her life, and that was to be a journalist. All throughout high school, I pushed myself to be the best writer I could be, and I fell in love with it. Writing was the sole reason I chose to go to The New School and be in New York City – a city that was never static and constantly evolving. However, when I entered the first class of my freshman year, everything changed. My mind went blank as my classmates walked around talking about their future plans in detail, they talked about their dreams and aspirations. I suddenly realized that my aspiration wasn’t good enough anymore, it didn’t suit me, and that freaked me out. I met people who wanted the exact same thing that I did, but they were probably (okay, definitely) so much better at it than I was. I felt inferior, though I had no concrete reason to be.
That weekend, I decided to make a trip home to Long Island to talk to my parents about my newfound midlife crisis. I told them all about how I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a journalist anymore, and how I thought I had fallen out of love with journalism. I thought of the possibility of becoming a physical therapist or maybe even a human rights lawyer like Amal Clooney, because lets face it: she’s awesome. As I was telling them this, I wasn’t even sure if I liked the idea of these professions, either or if I was being lured in for financial reasons.
You’re always taught as a kid to dream big, but not too big; do something you love, but also do something that provides you with a steady income. This, I would like to tell every adult out there, is almost impossible nowadays. I loved writing for my high school newspaper, but in a time where the journalism industry is declining, could this provide me with the life I want? In between studying and writing papers, I find myself surfing the web for “jobs that make money,” and I hate that it has come down to that. I hate that there is so much pressure on teenagers, fresh out of high school and barely into college, to know what they want to do for the rest of their life, and to focus not on what they love, but what makes the most money.
It is terrifying and intimidating to be faced with the fact that within these next four years, I have to make a decision that will stick with me for the rest of my life. Even as I am writing this right now, I’m still thinking of what choice to make, and it’s leaving me with a killer migraine.
What will benefit me the most as I get older? What will my future-self thank me for?
“Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.” E.E. Cummings said this, and though it may appear super cheesy, it reminds me that it’s okay to take chances and follow your gut instinct. Trusting your gut, or your heart, is at times more beneficial than trusting your brain. It may sometimes lead to disappointments, but these disappointments can be lessons learned. These disappointments can lead you on a path to something even greater. Maybe, it’s a good thing I’m going through this “midlife crisis” (or, I guess, “breakdown,” whatever you want to call it). It shows that I am still growing as a person, and there is nothing wrong with that. I remind myself that I am not the only one going through this. Not every kid enters college knowing what their job is going to be. In fact, statistically, most don’t. Sure, applaud those kids who know what they want to do from the get-go, but don’t forget to applaud yourself when you find a new love or passion a bit later because that’s awesome, too. If you, like me, have no clue what your job should be, don’t be afraid to open up to new things. One of those new things may strike you just right, and you might just become enamored with it.
In the future, when my next midlife crisis happens, I’m going to remind myself that I am only 17 (assuming I’ll have another within this year, which, being in college – let’s face it – is entirely likely). I have my whole life to decide what my next step will be, and it is completely up to me to decide – something you should remind yourself as well. Even Alan Rickman (Severus Snape, as many of us know him best as) didn’t know he wanted to become an actor until he was 31, so, if he can figure it out, then so can I.