Ready to Grow, Scared to Grow Up: Crossroads of My Future

I’ve been an anxious person my entire life. Even as a child, I knew in my heart I didn’t want to grow up. Now that I am approaching the end of my third year of college, I can’t help but feel as though time has gotten away from me. 

A multitude of these emotions have been running through my veins for as long as I can remember, and have been sitting high on a peak for the past three months. I recently applied and was accepted to an accelerated masters program. While this is the response I had longed to hear, it felt as if I had to say goodbye to my youth. 

Since my second semester at New Paltz I knew I wanted to study English, and the concept of an accelerated pathway program enthralled me. That was when I figured out my main goal for college was to apply to this program. The application process was such a rush to me — I absorbed every minute spent writing essays and compiling samples of my best writing. While I was on this adrenaline high I simply felt content and eager for my future. Ever since I received my acceptance letter and begun the process of registering for master-level English classes, something in me shifted a bit. 

It takes me back to the weight of my emotions when I was mortified of graduating high school and going away to college. I was constantly in conflict with myself, deciding whether I should celebrate or curl up and cry. The initial high off my own success and personal growth, and the crash when a new reality would hit. I am immensely thankful for the opportunities that I’ve had and all the doors that this one will open up for me. 

To be completely honest, I have no clue what profession I would like to pursue, and I think that is a major contributor to this subsect of my anxiety. It’s all so complicated, because I love the study of English, and I consider myself a lifelong learner, but I don’t know what that’ll entail for me down the line. 

Most days, I daydream about teaching high school English, inspiring young minds and imprinting even a fraction of the impact my English teachers had on me. Sometimes, I wrestle with the idea of pursuing a Doctorate degree and teaching at the collegiate level. Other times I lust for a life where I write and publish my own ideas as an author or journalist. At the end of the day, I’m still not sure where my strengths lie, or which avenue I would have the most success in, and that’s quite terrifying.

Now, I sit at this crossroads or sorts, where I am afflicted with the hard truth I’ve dreaded for my entire life: I am growing up. It seems so stupid at times, because obviously this is just a part of life, but it’s something I had always tried to push far from my mind because the fear of it all eats me alive. Admittedly, I think I’ll always seek out a sense of youthfulness. I want to perceive the world as vibrant as it was in my eyes as an innocent child, and hold onto that childlike sense of wonder and whimsy.