An Open Letter To The Things That Didn’t Go as Planned

Growing up goes hand in hand with expectations, hopes, dreams, successes and failures.  The idea of success is obviously something extremely subjective, but regardless of definition, still plays a pivotal role in our lives.  As humans, our innate tendency is to search for something that we are passionate about and to succeed at said passion. Coming to college, I had so many preconceived notions and ideas of not only what college was going to be like, but what I was going to be like and what I was going to do.  Having all these initial expectations led me to a lot of heartbreak and, to put it bluntly – failures. I try my hardest every single day to accept whatever comes my way and believe that everything happens for a reason, but sometimes it seems like nothing will ever go right. But, rather than hold it in, I’m going to face it head on and write an open letter to all the things that didn’t go as planned since I have come to college.

Dear Things That Didn’t Go as Planned,

We have a lot to discuss.

I guess the best way to go about this long-winded story is to start from the very beginning.  I had planned all of my life, well as long as I can consciously remember, to turn 18, go to college in New York or Los Angeles, and live it up like they do in the movies.  You tore that dream apart like a present on Christmas morning. I got into schools I never could have dreamed of getting into in the states that weren’t home, yet felt like they should be.  But, after finding out the lack of scholarships and financial aid I would be able to receive, I found that financially there was absolutely no way I could do it. I remember the feeling of absolute hopelessness. It sounds melodramatic, I know, but I really can’t explain the feeling I had in my heart. It’s like I was a foot from the finish line and then I just froze and couldn’t move, and everyone around me was passing that finish line but no matter what, I couldn’t reach it.  I worked my butt off for YEARS to get into these colleges and then when I did, I found out that there was no way I could go. This was just the beginning for you and me.

Whether it be from movies, TV shows, books or just word of mouth, I had this glamorous vision of what college was going to be like and what I was going to be like while attending it.  But let me tell you, this vision was just an intense case of “rose colored glasses syndrome.” Coming into college, I thought I would live in the most social dorms, be absolute best friends with my roommate, make a ton of friends, go out every night and party, go to all the sporting events and somehow still manage to get good grades.  I am not exaggerating when I say literally not a single one of those things turned out to be true.

My roommate and I were not best friends, and I don’t blame that on her whatsoever, but we just weren’t – part one of the never ending saga of things not going as planned.  I thought I would make all these friends and be a social butterfly, but somehow college made me the most introverted I have ever been. I soon realized that not only did I not like partying, but I also really didn’t like sports.  I have always been the odd ball out in a lot of scenarios, but coming to college REALLY made me feel like a sore thumb. I remember sitting in my dorm on the 10th floor of Sellery and looking out at the streets filled with red outfits and white beer cans and wondering “Why can’t I just be normal? Why can’t I just be like everyone else?”.  For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why all these things that seemed glamorous and like a dream when I was 16, no longer felt like a dream. Not only was my social life taking a turn for the worst, but so was my academic life. I fell into a really bad rut because of you and became a student I didn’t recognize. I grew up getting all A’s – or at least pretty dang close – and all of a sudden my skills and brain power weren’t good enough anymore.

The academic aspect of college has involved a lot of you impacting my path.  I grew up thinking I was going to go to business school and do this job or that job. As soon as I came to college, I realized that not only was I not going to get into the business school, but I also didn’t want to get into the business school.  Another thing that I had always believed to be my final path was yet again just a wrong turn down a dead end side street.  The degrees I am working towards now have taken me down a different career path that aren’t necessarily better or worse, just different.  But, when my dream of going to school out of state was ripped apart, I told myself that I would study abroad in London and intern in New York or Los Angeles.  No ifs, ands or butts. But, I think we both know where this is going, neither of those happened. 

I am now in my second semester of my junior year and I can say with complete and utter honesty and confidence that not a single thing involved with my college or career path has gone as I planned or as I hoped.  It really breaks my heart to say that, and even though my dreams didn’t workout, they never changed. I still think about what could have been and what should have been on a daily basis, which makes college life a lot harder, let me tell you.  Like I said, I am really working on being more optimistic, accepting challenges and believing that everything happens for a reason, but I can also tell you that it’s really dang hard. Dreams and expectations come with a lot of invisible baggage and emotions that I never thought they would.  But somehow, even through it all, I still haven’t given up. I am here. I am working hard. And even though my past dreams didn’t work out, I have a lot more time and I plan to use that to work as hard as I ever have. Dreams may not always work out, but they are never ending.

I know this letter to you seemed a bit jumbled, and it definitely was, but I had a lot to get off my chest and I really just needed you to know how much you have impacted me.  Things may not have gone as planned, but I am here and I am breathing, and that is all that matters.

 

Till we meet again,

Rachel.

 

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