Monday, 19 January 2015

Ignoring own instincts

I made a decision today. I've actually thought of little else for a while now without confiding in anyone, but now I have officially made up my mind.

You see, I've said it before, I didn't want to go to university, I didn't even want to study English.

There are memorable moments in my short history that stick out so brightly as if printed on glossy new paper in an un-opened book. I wanted to study Art, for a start. I'd already chosen my course of choice, and then an authoritative figure in my life at the time persuaded me, almost with brut force to change to something more 'suitable'.

A year and half later, I didn't want to go to University. I'd grown out of that passion to please in class, I'd stopped enjoying the academic society, I was not applying to university.

My social circle (who thought they were acting for the best, because university was the 'done' thing to do at this time, started hauling on the pressure), an overly controlling boyfriend, and every tutor I looked up to and respected, even those I didn't, wouldn't let the matter drop, they too hauled on the pressure. Even though I was looking into alternative plans, even though every instinct I had was screaming that this was the wrong choice for me, I applied.

I didn't want to stay. My first week I cried in the bus stop waiting to go home my hands trembling on my phone because I did not want to be here and I felt deep down that it wasn't right, and the voice on the other end was telling me to shut up and get on with it.

I got on with it, every last excruciating lecture, every assignment, every book. I trudged through, detesting this choice that had been made for me and to be honest feeling resentful about the whole thing. I knew I didn't want to be a teacher, I also knew that anything else was either out of reach or dying out. Yes I'd happily work in a library all day every day, but in a world where machines are replacing a quarter of us in the workplace, was this realistic? Yes I want to write, I want to publish, but my own work not someone else's. In a world where everyone thinks they have a best seller in them, how realistic are the dreams to be self sufficient on an income from book sales?

I finished university coming out with nothing I hadn't already gotten when I went in, only now I have a piece of cream card that says I'm in thousands of pounds of debt for a number on a page I see no worth in. My confidence, you might say, if you know me well...came from a waitressing job in a restaurant where I worked with some of the best people I've met, and some of the worst. My ability to stand up for myself, my resilience to critique, my bubbly bright personality all came from that job, not university. Friends? My friends are still the same people I knew at school and grew to love at college, the same circle of individuals who had nothing much in common but a high school history and the same table in a cafeteria. I only realised they were even MY friends when heartbroken and crushed they gathered around me, and stuck with me. University offered few friendships I could tolerate, in fact I count only five, and even so facebook friendship doesn't really count.

So I am resolute in my opinion. I knew the best option for myself and time and time again I ignored my own instincts. I shall not be so weak and easily persuaded again.

I've decided where I want to be, what I want to do and how I'm going to get there.
I know it wont happen by next week, but happen it will. I'll spend more money, more time, more hope, but if I succeed it will be worth it to be happy everyday. Yes it's probably competitive, but that means nothing anymore, when a handful of graduates can't even get a job as a part time cleaner, competitive becomes a word of little meaning. Everything is competitive, there's a market for everything especially employment, employment in general is the most competitive game to play. If I don't pursue this because it might be overly competitive I'm holding myself back on a feeble excuse. If my degree is wasted then so be it, it's not important to me! If people think I'm wasting myself then they don't know me. Because I've had it up to my eyeballs with people telling me what I am and what's best for me. I know what's best for myself. I know myself better than anybody! I know I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, I know I have my weaknesses but I also know where my strengths truly are. It's listening to people who think they know me that's gotten me here in the first place; Annoyed, resentful, wishing I could turn the clock back and in no better position or happier than the day I left school. I'm only 21, I have time. The one other person next to myself who knows me well enough is the one person I can guarantee will support whatever decisions I make, the ones I make on my own.

So that's it. I've gotten all that off my shoulders and now I feel much better. I will do this. I will make this happen. Life Objective Number One: Happiness.

No comments:

Post a Comment