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If any of you know me at all, you know that I feel that college was the biggest waste of 3.5 years of my life.  I was a nursing major for four semesters and hated every. single. second. of it.  Then I switched to the comm department and specialized in Public Relations for three more semesters and got the hell out of there.  And guess what?  I didn't really like PR either.

Part of me feels like if I hadn't gone into nursing, I would have had a totally different college experience.  But then another part of me tells myself this isn't true.  Nursing changed me.  It ruined me.  It took away the wild part of my personality.  I was a shell of my old self.  Nursing is awesome and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I had loved it.  But I didn't.  And I couldn't make myself.  It takes special people to be nurses and it just wasn't me.

If I back up a little bit, you'll know that I didn't decide to go into nursing until November of my senior year of high school.  That's right.  I couldn't decide what I wanted to be.  And it wasn't because I had too many options, it's because I didn't have any.

There was a day when I was in kindergarten that we could dress up as what we wanted to be when we grew up.  I wanted to be an astronaut.  My mom said that would be hard to dress up as (I just think she didn't want to make an astronaut costume in June... Boo, Mom. Boo.), so she suggested I come up with something else.  So I dressed as a teacher.  I've never wanted to be a teacher.

Sometimes I wish that I had majored in agriculture, because it's something that is so near to my heart.  Roger tells me I can always go back and do it again, but I really couldn't.  I would never live on-campus at this stage in my life and field trips with a 22-year-old would be weird for college freshmen.  Right?  I don't know.  It doesn't matter.  It's over now.

The only thing that has ever appealed to me at all in my lifetime is to be a writer.  I always subscribed to the American Girl magazine when I was younger, and I wanted to work there so badly.  I wanted to craft and take photos and write how-to's.  This sounds familiar, doesn't it?  Kind of like what I do on this blog.  Huh.

Anyway, I've been thoroughly confused about what I want to be when I grow up for my entire life.  I still don't know what I want to be, and I'm kind of a grown up now.  I don't think I'll ever find what I'm going to be, and I've accepted this.  It's okay.  Maybe I'm not meant to "be" anything.

Except maybe happy.  And brave.

I want to be happy when I grow up.  I want to be brave.  I want to be helpful and friendly.  I want to continue to be wild and free, like I've always been.


2 comments

  1. I love this. And you, so much. You have such a beautiful heart and spirit. I think you are being exactly what and who you are meant to be. It'll probably change at some point, but you'll change with it and it'll be both hard and amazing.

    xoxo.

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    Replies
    1. Shanna, YOU are amazing. Talk about beautiful hearts :) Your comment got me a little teary-eyed. Being a grown-up is tough, isn't it? Love you, friend.

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