By Staff
By: Katie Hunter
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” As if we should all know by the time we’re 5 years old.
The typical school-age answers fade, losing their sparkle as we grow to realize that becoming an astronaut just isn’t in the cards for everyone.
Becoming a doctor, veterinarian or scientist all seem like fun when we’re young and have little regard for money, time and consequences.
By the time we hit adulthood, most of us are faced with the very real and scary thought of being “stuck” in a job that doesn’t quite fit who we truly want to be.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do at 18, and now at 30, I’m still pretty unsure. I spent most of my twenties wondering when I would get that “this is what I’m destined for” feeling, but it never quite happened.
I felt like everyone around me knew what they wanted, and I was the strange one for not being ready to commit to what seemed equivalent to a lengthy prison sentence.
People rarely know what they want to do, especially coming out of high school, but how can we?
Few are fortunate enough to have traveled the world at such a young age, but most have no experience outside of a few dances and football games. What do we really know of the world besides the tiny square footage of it we’d been exposed to?
I joined the military right out of high school and stayed for about ten years, buying myself some time before I had to decide my future without wasting a ton of money and drowning in student loans. When it came time to reenlist or move on, I got the feeling that I’d been running from real life, and decided it was time to grow up.
I left the only world I’d known as an adult to rejoin twenty-somethings who seemed to have life largely figured out. My peers in the classroom are confident, intelligent and self-assured, all traits I felt I lacked at that age.
Throughout my first semester at CSULB, I’ve learned to be thankful that I don’t know what I want. I try to look at it not as indecision, but open-mindedness. After all, “indecision” allowed to me explore the world throughout my twenties.
That same indecision led to experiences I could’ve only dreamed of as a kid. I know now that my life is a book, and a career is one small chapter, not the entire story.
We should stop asking kids “what do you want to be when you grow up?” Do we really care about what they want to do more than who they are, or who they will become?
I had little idea what I wanted to do when I was 18, and for that, I’m thankful. I no longer feel like an outcast with a limited future, but an adventurer who wakes up every day, excited for what my indecision will bring me. I care less that I don’t know what I’m supposed to be, as long as I know I who I am.
So, my advice to those who may not have it all figured out is to give yourself the space to find yourself and to be explorative in your search for what you want.
After all, where is the adventure in a life that is lived in a straight line?
