And some sit and wait . . . and wait . . . and wait.
I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I knew I never wanted to be a teacher, I didn't have that much patience. And I didn't want to be a chef, because I couldn't even tell when break n' bake cookies were finished cooking. And I most certainly didn't want to be a doctor, because I wouldn't want to get that close to perfect strangers and have to inspect their toe fungus or mucusy cough or goopy eyes. Gross.
When I started college, here was my rationale for choosing to major in Communication Studies.
"I love to speak and be in front of people, and the major is broad. People who major in Communications have gone on to do so many things that sound interesting! And I'll have four looooong years to study and figure out what to do with my life. It's perfect!"
And the major was perfect. I learned a lot, I love most of my classes, and I was challenged. The classes were tough, no matter what negative opinions you have of the stygmatized "easy" Comm classes. And at the end of my four years of college? Well, I'm sitting in my parents' house, in the new living room, with these thoughts:
"Four years goes by a lot more quickly than you think it will when you're newly 18. And four years isn't nearly enough time to figure out the rest of your life! And how, if I didn't know before, was I supposed to decide on one thing when I have hundreds (ok, maybe only dozens) of careers at my fingertips?? Why am I still clueless about the rest of my life???"
And no, I am not being dramatic. I am being honest. Some days I wake up and think I have it all figured out. And I do, for about two weeks. In the past 6 months or so, this is what I've thought of:
- I'll be a newscaster! And I promptly set out Googling different ways to get into reporting. I thought of ways to get around the whole "I don't have any experience in newscasting at all" hurdle, only to decide I don't know if that's what I want to do.
- I'll be a comedian! But really, most comedy is somewhat inappropriate, and I want my Grandma to be able to be involved in my career, and I couldn't see her sitting in the audience listening to me ramble on about how Hot Pockets are gross and give people diarrhea (even if it's true).
- I'll be a writer! This lasted the longest, I think. I bought books about writing, I wrote every day (which I still do), I gave myself prompts, I settled on different titles for all my different books (and then I found out that the title is usually the last thing that's done . . . whatever). And then I just stopped.
- I'll just be a mom!! Well, while this is definitely (God willing!) in my 10-year plan, I sort of need something to get me from point A (single, looking for a career) to point B (in a career and a relationship) to point C (married and on my way to having kids). I never liked math, but I know that things need to add up correctly in order to get the right answer.
What I know now, and have always known, is that God has a plan for my life. And what I've said before and not believed at times, is that I want God's plan for my life. But there's a problem: I don't know what that is. I'm torn between two decisions, neither wrong, both right, one best. But I don't know which to choose. I don't know which is best. And so I pray. I pray for guidance. I pray that the answer will become clear. I pray I will make the right decisions. And I wait.
And now, I think I may have finally stumbled upon something I would like to do (knock on wood! which I realize is a bit inappropriate given that I just wrote about God). Something that incorporates all the things I enjoy. Something that would allow me to move back home. Something that would allow me to be happy. Something that would allow me some financial stability. Something that would allow me to take pride in what I do, and to gain more expertise and to hone my current skills further. And it's a secret, until it becomes reality.
Recently, I heard someone say that there are two reasons we're afraid of our future:
1) We're afraid we might fail, or 2) We're afraid we might succeed.
Cliche, I know, but they're cliches for a reason!!!
So now, while I'm rocking in my parents' LayZ Boy recliner staring at what used to be a brick fireplace, I think I'll choose to be excited for my future. Excited for what I'll accomplish. Excited for the strides I'll make. Excited, and not scared.
And then, one day, I'll write about it in my book, and you'll read it there, too.