When you’re in school, you always know what’s coming next. When you are in seventh grade, you know you will be going into eighth the next fall. There is always a sense of security in knowing where you will be. Even when parts of life are changing, this notion of school is always a constant.
Of course, there is uncertainty when college comes around. Do you want to go to college? Where do you want to apply? Where will you get in? What degree do you want? All of these questions crop up senior year of high school, or sometimes earlier. I remember feeling uncertain –– of feeling like a plant being ripped out of its own soil to be planted somewhere new. And eventually, after nights of major mental breakdowns about leaving my childhood bedroom, it was all ok. It ended up being the best thing for me.
In college, I learned that it was ok to be uprooted. That being planted somewhere new was wonderful and exciting. It was better to grow somewhere else than hide in the shadows of what was comfortable.
Now, I’m back in the shade of my childhood bedroom. My old plastic soccer trophies stare at me from my bookshelves –– curious as to why I am back. I wish so badly to be uprooted again, to be taken to another unfamiliar place where I can feel the warmth of the sun and grow. But for now, I am stuck here, surrounded by golden figures in cleats and shin guards.
There is no 17th grade for me. There is no grad school in my forward view and that’s ok. But it’s hard not knowing what is next yet, especially when my job hunt has gone from fine to desperate. After several rejections and being ghosted from jobs, my experience that I was once proud of feels weak and flimsy.
Every year in school felt like a new step toward my post-grad goals. I did new projects each year, took on leadership roles and got better grades in my classes. By the end, I felt successful. I felt like everything that I did in college will somehow, miraculously, give me a job the summer after I graduated. But my sister goes back to college soon, and in just a few weeks the leaves will begin to change color.
Even so, there is some comfort in knowing that at this time next summer, my life will probably look completely different. Maybe I will find a journalism job that I like, or work in marketing, or work some crazy job that I have no idea about yet. Maybe I will be in New York City or in a random city I never thought I would live in.
There is comfort in knowing that I will be planted somewhere else eventually. And isn’t that exciting? While my internal clock is freaking out that I don’t have a job yet, part of me (a very small sliver) knows that it will happen. I just need time.
What are your thoughts on where you will be next year? Let me know by emailing me: gingerlyons23@gmail.com 🙂
Educated Guesses 