Why I Am a Proud College Dropout
Looking back on my decision to leave college and how dropping out in some ways bettered my life.
Four years ago on Valentines Day, I was offered and accepted a full ride scholarship to a state school for journalism. At the time, I was astounded that I had been the one picked for such a prestigious scholarship.
Honestly, I think I was so excited about the prospect of free college that I forgot about any concerns about my major. I had somehow forgotten that I had decided semi-recently that because I liked to write I had to go journalism school. It just made sense, right? I was so, so wrong.
My freshman year consisted of barely any in-person classes, many of which for my major repeated class material. The repetition and isolation led me to lose interest in my major. The more I felt dooming anxiety for school-related activities, the more I felt justified in leaving.
However, I pushed through and returned my sophomore year. Still I disregarded my own feelings. Did I even want this? I felt like I was supposed to.
I felt like I would cry out to loved ones for help, for confirmation that it would be okay if I left and it always felt like all I heard back was crickets. I could tell that it was time to leave. But I knew I didn’t want to go back to school, and I knew members of my family wouldn’t understand.
For too long, I had fallen into what many chronic people pleasers do: yes man every person to the point of where most people don’t know who you really are. I lost my identity in following what I thought other people would want for me.
I wish I had just left college then; however, I still was too scared of other’s opinions to completely leave higher education, so I transferred schools and majors, claiming I just had lost passion for the one major and was transferring to try another. Never mind that the passion for the original major may not have even been there in the first place.
This is not to say that I don’t like writing. The style of writing I had been studying and my specific degree track were simply a reflection of me trying to seem like some cool hard-hitting journalist, whereas I would say I’m more of a chaotic blogger. I was simply pretending to be someone else.
I eventually left again. And made similar mistakes: making half-ass plans to justify my leaving to fulfill another passion. Yet after a short stint in faking another passion, I finally gave up on being anyone other than me.
I returned to doing my server job full-time. I began making online content again. I started exploring what I actually want to do with my life rather than playing the game of trying to figure out what I think I should be doing.
Looking back, four years ago I was a completely different person. Coming out of making my hardest decisions, I am my happiest because they are the truest to my being.
