As a college student, every passing moment, every step, every second, seems to have an effect on our future. We are told to make friends with our peers, our professors, and our TAs, in an attempt to create connections that will aid us in the future- after all, your “History of the Modern Type” professor’s second cousin’s wife MIGHT just be the key to unlock all your dreams. Each paper is worth an insurmountable percent of your final mark, a mark that will factor into your overall GPA that will then be proliferated nation wide to grad schools, potential employers, internship programs and basically everyone you know. Worry, expectantly, consumes our lives.
Friday, the worry got to me (coupled with the sad fact that I didn’t get Taylor Swift tickets). Every year, since my sophomore year of high school, at some point- usually in the spring- the worry gets to me. I always turn to my parents who listen while I sob away about the various distresses in life and college, releasing them into the world to float away and disperse. My worries, however, have expanded exponentially since the simple days of high school. Today, I have a boyfriend I love very deeply with his own future to plan, his own goals to reach and his own dreams. No matter much either of us hope for and want it, there is a significant possibility that his future and my future may not converge into the same future. I worry about “us” every day. I struggle on where to put my foot down. Could I live in Canada for the rest of my life? Could I settle for a job I only like? All in order to be with him. But as my Mom reminded me Friday morning, all I can control is me- in school, in my relationship, I control the direction my ship goes, hands fixed on the steering wheel, but ultimately I am at the mercy of the sea of fate. Sometimes I have to be reminded that the world requires a lot of work and be proud of the choices I make. I have to work to make my future one I’m happy with- there will be compromises, but that is how life operates. You can’t always get everything you want. It wasn’t horribly comforting to be told that I have to work harder, when I already feel like I’m working my ass off, but it did help me get both feet back on the ground. I wish the future would hurry up and get here already, the suspense is killing me.