In high school, I had no idea what my plans would be after graduating, and actually, I didn't really care. I would be done with school and that was all that really mattered. My parents weren't the kind to enforce college; they were of the more free spirited type, believing that each of their children could do, become, and accomplish whatever they wanted and if that didn't involve loads of books, hours of homework, and going to school for 4+ years, then that was okay.
So after graduation, my plan instead was to get married. And gosh, I was the stupidest! I mean, who plans on that? But when I was younger the idea of marriage always just seemed so easy. You meet a guy, you fall in love, get married, walah, easy as pie. This way I wouldn't have to figure out life for myself and it just seemed easier to ride on the coat tails of my husband while he had all the success and I just stood by his side as a good and supportive wife. Which, if any of my future daughters have this plan, I will kick them in the shins and because also, that is sooo not how a marriage works anyway.
So to pass the time, I went to school for aesthetics, graduated, realized I hated it, worked random jobs, started community college at least 7 times; once for interior decorating?, another for psychology?, and then there was communications, and all the others were probably for nursing. And each time, I decided that I hated it all. With each passing year, I began to envy those who had it all figured out. Those who knew exactly what they wanted to go to school for, or what they wanted to do with their lives. Why couldn't I be that sort of person? Why did it have to be so stupidly, retardedly hard? At 23, I was no closer to figuring out what I wanted to do than I was at 18 and that lingering question hung over my head every single day; What the freak am I supposed to do with my life?
But then there was this night where the heavens opened and angels practically appeared, and I knew that I wanted to go to school for English. It was just as impractical as most of the other majors I had once thought to major in, but I didn't care. This was it. I was passionate about it and for the very first time in my life I was really, really excited about my future. I enrolled in a million credits per semester, worked harder than ever, and went to BYU-Idaho to complete my degree, where, at 25-years-old, I felt more out of place than ever. But I knew the real reason I was there and that was for my major, and I mean, it just spoke to me. This was what I wanted to be doing, what I needed to be doing, and in the depths of my soul, I just knew it. With all the 12-year-olds running around, I knew I would never find my husband there but I didn't care about that anymore. I cared about my life, I cared about what I did, and who I would become as an individual. That was it. This time was for me.
And then the summer before my last semester, I met Taylor. Go figure....and it was not in Idaho I might add!
We dated, got engaged, I finished school, and we were married.
A week after getting married, we moved to Cody for his job transfer and it was here that I remained unemployed for a good two months, with nothing to do, and not a single soul to know. My days were lonely. That's when I decided to make the most of my degree and started writing. After watching hours of hulu, it was the one thing that caused my brain to think and the thing that I found any fulfillment in. I've had this blog for years but rarely wrote, perhaps I was waiting for my muse (Taylor). Each day I had to focus on the good things that happened, the weird things that seemed insignificant but that I could somehow make significant by turning it into a story and by writing about it. And never in my life have I believed in people discovering hobbies as I do now.
In time, I found a job. A dumb one mind you, but one that got me out of the house no less, and it is there that I continue to work.
And this whole thing, this whole post, well, that it doesn't really have an ending or a point even. It's ongoing really, just as life tends to be, and I try everyday to discover what I'm supposed to do with my life and who I'm supposed to be. Because deep down I know there's more, deep down I know I'm meant for greater things than working as a sales clerk at a museum, that we are all meant for things greater. Deep down...
And so, I close. With no conclusion, no solution, but hoping that maybe by putting it out into the world I'll feel hopeful and that somehow, someway, answers will come...