Every time that I think I have things figured out...or at least a little figured out...I don't.
On February 1st, I will graduate from Triple Crown. I have a Bachelor's in Psychology from UNC, I will be certified as a Pet Trainer and Behavior Specialist, and I have absolutely no clue where I am going. Or where I should be going.
I used to have lofty goals, working through school in three years and dreaming of living in the Northwest when I finished up. Today, I honestly don't know what I am headed towards. My friends live in Colorado. Annie in Nashville. The rest of my family in Kansas City. Is it even acceptable to base my decisions off of where the people I love reside? I feel like have no true ambition beyond that. Maybe it's because, for the past couple of years, I thought I had it figured out. I thought he was the reason for my decisions, and that was that. Maybe I jumped to conclusions. Maybe I moved too hastily. Maybe I can't base decisions off of other people.
To be 22 and feel like I am starting from ground zero...feels strangely surreal and overwhelming. Sure, other college graduates face the same thing as I do. But where is the direction in my life I so deeply desire? So much of me longs for the past. A familiar place to call home. A steady relationship to take comfort in. An ability to dream without putting a cap on it. I am scared. Scared of failure. Scared to go on without him. Scared that I will make the wrong decision. Scared to move forward.
Someday, I truly hope I can look back on this dark time of life and see how much I have grown because of it. As for today, I am grieving, I am living, and I am seeking.
6 comments:
Becca B, you're going to be okay. I know that it doesn't feel like it right now, but I promise you that you are. It's going to get worse before it gets better, and it's going to take a long time... but there will come a day when you feel happy and hopeful and purposeful again.
Until then, just lean into the pain and let it pass through you. You'll wind up stronger.
And come see me in Nashville ASAP. Maybe you can bring me a load of stuff in the truck in early Feb?
B-Bec, you are going to be okay. Keep going, you'll figure it out, wherever and whatever it is.
Just come back to visit soon. And bring ME a load of stuff too.
I love you. no advice, just that I love you.
i can't believe you're finishing so soon.
you'll be such a better becca through this all.
if that's possible,
only God can do it.
but He will.
all my love.
nice. the last sentence especially.
Don't Give up. (that's what my mom has always said to me... for some reason it always means so much.)
I'm with ya, stranger. (Via Annie Parons, by the way.)
I am going through this too, though my stint in graduate school has sponsored the continuation of my naïvety until recently. With new time to think for various reasons, I've become flooded with questions. I've found answers, but only the kind that yield more questions.
I don't know my hopes anymore. I've taken a step back and began to consider why I've done and why I've planned to do the things that I do. Were there any reasons? Were they good, reasonable reasons? I was coasting. Happily, yes, but coasting nonetheless. And now I am not.
I face this newfound ignorance about what to do and why for the first time. It's done a ragged number on my confidence and more so my resolve, but I feel like it has brought me a new candor.
The uncertainty is not a burden to carry or a fog I can't escape. It's an honest companion walking next to me. I can now appreciate the weight of my decisions, the viscosity of the ink that trails just behind my unique pen. It is grave and deep and permanent. A veritable infinity of possibilities collapses with each of my decisions, and that's a power that carries overwhelming responsibility. I found myself frozen by uncertainty; I could not afford to misstep.
But this is what it means to be human! to have free will, and to care about our choices. I'm feeling the unprocessed pulp of life in my hands. I'm seeing that the confident are oversimplifying. We are explorers above anything else, and that now rings true with every decision I weigh. Embracing the uncertainty has felt like turning to face the wind, and that is how I've always wanted to live.
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