I remember the day (not the specific date mind you, but when it happened) when I began to realize I really just wanted to finish my Bachelor's but maybe not in psychology much less go to graduate school for it. I was following my advisor into her office and she was telling me how she was reading a book about James Watson a prominent psychologist already dead and gone and she was reading this for fun. . .I had no desire to read those books, much less for fun.
I admire those in psychology and studying it helped me understand myself, and those who had abused me better. I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't studied that specific focus. And yet, it doesn't excite me as it once did. I had decided to minor in English for something to break up the monotony of constant studying. In the making that change, I began to realize I enjoyed reading fiction and assorted types of literature much more than my psychology text books. That's problematic. . .not feeling excited to study what you've chosen.
So I decided to stay the course but would pursue English for my graduate work. Life got messy as it is apt to do and to this day I do not have my Bachelor's Degree. My husband is a sweet man, but he would like me to finish Psychology. . .no. It has been so long since I took Statistical Methods and Theory of Research Design that I would be hopelessly lost. You know where I wouldn't be lost? In an English class because I still read even now and work to incorporate classics into my reading list even now. I can and often do make notes in my books, underline passages or quotes that I want to remember, and reread favorites often.
If I tried to finish my Psychology degree now, I would fail miserably. In part, because I'm not excited by it and also because I would be bored to tears. I would not, however, be bored reading and discussing books.
Now for the tough question. Do I want to teach? No thank you. Teachers rock, teachers are amazing but I am not foolish enough to think I can succeed in that noble profession. I can however, work on creating stories for people to read. Stories bursting out in my imagination. That I know I can do. Even at 43 years old, I know I can succeed at writing.
It's funny how we still in our 40's are figuring out who we are and who we will be or want to be. But for me the search is over. I will become a writer. Regardless of how successful I become or don't become. It's not really about money, it's more about letting my imagination out and allowing it the freedom it has long been denied.
Have a good weekend.