As easy as it can be to romanticize relocating to a different state and starting a new phase of life, I certainly have my moments of "what the hell am I doing." This recent move drastically changed the trajectory of my path since it was not something I expected to do anytime soon, let alone during a pandemic. Yet, it sort of just happened and I take this as part of the experience we call life.
Luckily, my parents never drilled any set path for me, so there was no looming end goal I had to accomplish that many of my first-gen peers feel pressured to pursue. They wanted me to be happy, whatever that looked like for me. Although, as freeing as it sounds, it only came with even more pressure. What does happiness look like exactly? How does one define happiness? From what we're told at a young age, it's to get a degree, a good paying job, get married and settle down someplace until you die. This blueprint engrained me with the idea of what a good life should look like and I decided to try it for myself.
After high school, I attended Cal Poly Pomona and chose to major in graphic design. Three years in and I was stressed, depressed and could hardly find the motivation to do much of anything. During my worst quarter, I failed two studio classes because I stopped showing up and found myself only attending my music theory class. I was filled with so much guilt, I had never failed a class before and there I was with two F's tacked onto my transcript. How did I end up here? I thought this path was going to make me happy? Why did it make me feel sick to my stomach to even think about attending class empty-handed and having to explain to my professor about the lack of progress on projects? It made me feel inadequate, like there was something wrong with me. I kept thinking I wasn't pushing myself hard enough, I wasn't studying enough, that something about me wasn't enough. I put so much pressure on myself to do something I thought I wanted, but didn't care for anymore. I came fairly close to dropping out altogether. Yet, the thought of letting all the time, energy and money go to waste and letting my family down was something I wasn't willing to face, so I decided to figure something else out.
I had no clue what I was going to do next, but I started exploring different classes to see what stuck. Thankfully, I had already completed some credits in communication as electives including film photography and photojournalism where I was reintroduced to my love for storytelling. My professor really enjoyed my work and suggested I apply to become the photo editor for the school newspaper. This eventually lead to my change of major into journalism.
I knew this switch was going to tack on another year to complete my degree along with additional loans, but I was willing to make it work. This created a huge shift for me; there wasn't a knot that came with me to every class and I was actually excited to learn the material. While there was no time to waste to fit in a full curriculum in two years, they turned out to be the most productive ones of my time in school. Then, this lead to an internship at a tech company and year later, a full time position. Who woulda thought?
All this to say, whether you're sure about what your next big decision is or not, it's all part of the experience. Frankly, there is no concrete way of knowing whether it's going to work, but that's not the point. The point is to keep and walking. Do it anyways. If there's something you've always wanted to try, go for it. Don't think of choices in terms of good or bad, but rather having the experience of making said choice.
Regardless of where I end up next, I am satisfied with the fact that I now have experience packing up my bags and leaving to someplace far away from home. At least it'll be a fun story to tell future generations some day.