“But if I write what my soul thinks, it will be visible, and the words will be its body.”

-Helen Keller

This week was something of a milestone for me as a person in her early twenties…

Earlier this week, I was had an emotional day. The kind where my world just felt upside down but I couldn’t put my finger on why. It just felt like a lot of little things-maybe they were big things now that I think about it- but big things that put together, I just couldn’t handle. And when this happens, it’s hard to see the bright side of things and this isn’t something that happens often. Everyone knows I’m a very happy-go-lucky person so when these days hit, they hit hard.

On Monday, my alarm went off at 7am for class. I woke up and told myself I just wasn’t going to wash my hair and set the alarm for 8am. I went back to sleep. That within itself, was not like me. I always give myself two hours to get ready. When I got out of the shower, I got dressed in sweats -also not me- then I go to do my makeup and I didn’t put on half of the stuff that I normally do. If you know me even in the slightest, you know I never leave the house unless I’m in a full outfit matched with accessories and makeup all done. Needless to say, this morning was already very off.

Mondays are Art History days and normally I’m excited for these days but I was sitting in my first class trying not to fall asleep. It was so hard to stay awake. My eyes were struggling to stay focused because they felt so heavy. I never had that problem in an Art History class. NEVER. I have never even felt the need for coffee before an Art History class.

So I started thinking, maybe this isn’t for me. And that’s when I started to unravel.

How am I going to be this deep in and only now realize that maybe I’m not meant for this. I was so upset. So what does this mean? What should I major in then? Have I just been wasting time and money? Is it too late to change? Everyone is going to be so mad at me. Maybe I should just stick it out, graduate and figure it out after? 

I went home and took a two hour nap because I am the QUEEN of avoiding my problems. At least momentarily. When I woke up, I started thinking more about my life and how uncertain my future was starting to look. So I had my first meltdown. I just sobbed. I have no idea what I’m doing or what I want to do anymore.

Once I calmed down, I decided I needed to go somewhere, anywhere where I could just be happy. I needed that. So I got in the car and just drove. I didn’t even have a destination in mind (I never do that, too much unknown).While I was driving, “Say” by John Mayer came on and I started crying again. When I was younger, my dad had dedicated that song to me because I always had a hard time speaking up and telling people how I was feeling. How little has changed since then. I needed my parents. I needed them to comfort me and tell me everything I was feeling was normal and that everything would be okay.

I kept driving and found myself at Barnes & Noble. My happy place. I didn’t go to buy anything. I went just to breathe and walk around. Something about the smell of books is just calming. I had brought my computer and journal thinking I’d feel better if I just wrote it all out and when I finally sat down to write, a friend texted me and asked what was going on and I unleashed it all on her (literally typed out a three paragraph essay). God bless her for reading it all. Thanks Cloud.

Her reply made me cry (in public, but I had a hat on. THANK GOD.) but these were good tears. She calmed me. She told me I was the most “resilient” person she knows. It was reading that one word that made everything better. It’s not the first time I’ve had someone tell me so but I think I just needed to be reminded.

While this was happening I got a phone call from another friend and he heard me sniffle over the phone and asked what was going on. I told him I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life anymore and again, I was calmed so easily.

He said “What profession would you do for free?”

Easy. Teach kindergarten or write.

He then goes on to tell me he never saw me doing the Art History thing but kids? KIDS he could see. And so could I. Thank you Carlos.

Writing has always been something just for fun but this quarter I took two creative writing classes and I can’t remember the last time I was so happy to put all my effort into one thing. I love the way it challenges my comfort zone. I never thought of myself as a very closed off person but writing has shown me that I don’t share the things that matter. Superficial things are easy to share, it’s the things that you keep hidden, deep down that are worth writing. That’s scary.

Today in class, my professor told us a personal story and towards the end, she got emotional. This was her “war story”. When she was done she said, “Now tell me your ‘war story’.”

I wrote mine and I almost cried while I was writing. I have never in my life felt so exposed. What I wrote wasn’t anything I had never shared out loud but for whatever reason, writing it down on paper felt more personal. It made me so vulnerable but it felt good.

So, after the emotional meltdown, this is where I’m at now:

I’m not the same person I was two years ago when I chose Art History as a major. I never gave myself a chance to explore other options. Now that I’m starting to branch out, I’m starting to realize that I might be meant for something else.

And you know,

It’s going to be okay.