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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SLU chapter.

The desire to have control over every aspect of your life is natural, especially when you’re in college and most simple things are easily controlled. In general, you’re able to choose where you live, who you live with, what classes you take, and what you do after your classes. You have a set schedule and, more often than not, will find yourself settling into a steady rhythm of classes, extracurricular activities, social engagements, possibly a job or sport or instrument, library sessions, and (maybe) sleep. For most people, it’s the first time they have complete—or, at least close to complete—control over their daily lives.

And it feels great!…Usually.

There is also a flipside to this college perk. There seems to be this overwhelming expectation in college that this control should go beyond mundane scheduled activities and should continue when you step off of campus and into the “real world” after you graduate. Although on the surface you have a lot of control over what you are doing on a daily basis, this can often lead to stress and anxiety and a feeling of lost control. The options are endless, the expectations are limitless, and nothing ever feels like enough. And the moment something doesn’t go according to your schedule or plan, this “culture of control” (as I like to call it) can cause any slight uncertainty to feel staggeringly unsettling. It’s an exhausting cycle.

This is something I have personally experienced many times over in my college experience so far. It’s also something I’ve recently begun to acknowledge, accept, and overcome.

When I took the difficult step to drop my business major and entirely devote my time to the disciplines in which my true passions reside, I opened up my world to a whole new set of uncertainties. And, at first, this was incredibly difficult to accept. My business major had felt like a safety net. If I couldn’t find a career in my true passion, then at least I would have the business degree to help me in the job market; at least I would have a good chance of getting some kind of desk job with a decent salary. Everything about being at a university reinforced this mindset. I convinced myself that if I was paying so much to receive my degree, I should make sure to enter into a well-paid, reliable career the moment I step out of the secure bubble that is college life.

Dropping that business major, alongside entering my junior year, caused me deep anxiety about the future. At first, I decided that the solution would simply be to go directly into graduate school for English. In my mind, this way, I would at least have a set plan and a pretty good idea of what I was getting myself into. This way, I could at least avoid the crippling anxiety of not knowing where to go after receiving my diploma. Of course, this was a complete oversimplification. And the more I thought about it and talked to faculty about applying to English PhD programs, I knew that I wouldn’t be doing it for the right reasons. I would be doing it because I thought it would be the “easier” route, the route that wouldn’t involve as much uncertainty.

Until very recently, I absolutely envisioned myself leaving this campus and embarking on one specific career path for the rest of my life. This just seemed to be what I was “supposed” to do. I couldn’t imagine any kind of alternative because I knew that anything else would involve a great deal of uncertainty. 

We’re taught that uncertainty is bad. We’re taught that it’s best to know exactly what we want to do with our lives and to make sure that we strive for a career that is stable and “respectable”—financially and otherwise. We’re taught that the more we can plan and schedule and eliminate any kind of uncertainty, the better.

But why does uncertainty have to be bad? Why can’t uncertainty mean excitement and growth and adventure and happiness? Why can’t it be a different kind of “stability”?

When I started attempting to reenvision my future as one in which uncertainty meant all of these things (and more), I was finally able to make peace with it. Instead of feeling the pit-in-my-stomach uncertainty about my future, I began feeling excitement about the endless options and opportunities and directions I could take. Maybe I’ll find a way to travel the world for a few years after I graduate. Maybe I’ll teach high school after that. Maybe I’ll work writing grants for a nonprofit. Heck, maybe I’ll write a novel! Of course, I’m lucky enough that my “uncertainties” are trivial compared to others—I will almost certainly always have a roof over my head and food on my plate and a place in this world that doesn’t involve constant fear or suffering. But this privileged position gives me even more of a reason to make the best of it. It gives me even more of a reason to see it as an invitation to continue growing and finding ways to make my world a better world—for me and for others. 

The fact is that we will never have complete certainty in life, whether we switch jobs every year or sit at the same desk job for 20 years. We will always be uncertain about something, job-related or not. So, I’ve chosen to embrace this uncertainty to the best of my ability and to believe that today’s doubt is tomorrow’s adventure, that today’s uncertainty is tomorrow’s innovation. And I hope you can too.

 

Sarah is the Editor-in-Chief and Co-Campus Correspondent for Her Campus at Saint Louis University. She is a Junior studying English and American Studies with a primary interest in 20th-Century and Contemporary American Literature, particularly semi-autobiographical fiction and novels that celebrate diversity within the fabric of American society and culture. Sarah is originally from Minneapolis, MN (and will talk your ear off about it) and loves all things literature, intersectional feminisim, travel, food, and politics. Ask her for recommendations for exciting new novels or local restaurants, and she will gladly oblige!