Hopes, Dreams, and... Stability?
A consideration on what we want to do vs. what we're obligated to do.
When I was young, and first turning my attention towards the daunting idea of what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, all that really mattered to me was doing something meaningful. I cared a lot about helping people, making some type of difference, no matter how small, and putting out a positive force into the world. Perhaps as a result of some misguided good intentions, I was frequently told that these ideals and goals were unrealistic, risky, and not applicable to the “real world.” As I got older, and world started to become scarier, I found myself slowly and hesitantly buying into what all those people were telling me.
I entered into college studying English and History, excited to just learn, one of my favorite activities in the world. By the end of my freshman year, I was already sitting in my advisor’s office discussing switching majors. The constant barrage of questions like, “what are you going to do with an English major?” and “how are you ever going to make any money?” and “where are you going to work?” at every family gathering started to weigh on me. Jokes from friends about graduating and working at the local coffee shop began to wear at my resolve.
Maybe because of some innate character flaw that makes me weak, or maybe just because humans are social creatures that want to be accepted, I finally gave in and switched to something “more practical.” Even that change wasn’t enough, the questions still came, the doubts were still seeded in my mind from others. Now here I am, years later, college a memory that has begun blurring around the edges, and after following the path that I was told to follow, I’m stuck wishing I hadn’t let other peoples’ opinions and judgements influence me so much.
The world is a scary place, and I’d be lying if I said that I don’t feel grateful for the stability and security that my “normal” jobs have provided me with, nor to say that I didn’t enjoy them. Perhaps the grass is always greener, and if I had stuck to my guns and studied what I wanted to, I’d find myself yearning for the consistency of a (debt-free) comfortable 9-5. At some point, though, you realize somewhere deep down inside of you that maybe you didn’t make the right choice, and sometimes that can be overwhelmingly terrifying.
I don’t think we’re born wanting to make money, or buy a nice house, or drive a nice car. These values are forced onto us by the society we are surrounded by. Your goal in life is to make more money, and to do so by working 40+ hours per week. The more you work, the more you spend, and the more you feel like you need. And on, and on, and on, in an endless cycle of feeling like what you have isn’t enough. It’s not a personal failing — capitalism is built on it. You need to be unhappy to some degree so that you spend more money, and are as a result driven to make more money. Those who want to drop out of this cycle and be content with simplicity are often financially and societally shamed. Not to mention the fact that the cost of simply staying alive has gone up significantly in past decades while wages have largely stayed the same.
Beyond school and work, though, I feel the weight of other peoples’ opinions permeating my mind with almost every decision I make. Opinions I didn’t even ask for, but influence me as much as my own nonetheless. When I had wanted to take some time off to travel, almost everyone I mentioned it to felt compelled to share with me why they thought it was a terrible idea. I let their own fears, failures, and weakness convince me that I shouldn’t do it. Now, here I am, a couple years later, realizing that back then was exactly when I should’ve done it, because the responsibilities and risk only continue to pile up as you get older.
I envy people who seem to live their lives without a care in the world what other people think. I envy more, those who somehow refrain from putting their own apprehensions onto others. I don’t blame the people in my life for offering up opinions or advice that I didn’t ask for. It’s a natural thing to do. I often catch myself doing it more frequently than I’d like. But the problem is, a few words can end up being so damaging, far beyond what we ever intended.
As I reflect on this, one path of my life not traveled, I’m trying to make it a point to stop offering up my opinions on a situation without being asked. Sharing your thoughts, considerations, and encouraging someone to think deeply about their decision is perfectly fine, but I no longer want to project my own fears and flaws onto others. Most importantly, I desperately don’t want to be the person who contributed to someone changing the course of their life for the worse.
Your reflection on the consequences of the decisions made back in college is very relatable. Reading this felt like a good recalibration for me! Great work!