This weekend I went back to my alma mater, Muhlenberg College, to visit my boyfriend. You think it'd be great going back to the place that helped you grow into the person you are, where you made lifelong friends, and opened your mind up to a world of possibilities, until you get there and realize: "Wait, who are all these people?" and "That guy looks like he's 14."

I had a great time with Ben, but it was so strange to walk around that campus -- a place I once called "home" -- and know I didn't belong there anymore. I spent the whole weekend trying to dodge the masses because I wanted to avoid the "what are you doing here" look on people's faces; and even more so, I just couldn't bear to face that same, haunting question again: "So what are you doing now?"

To those of us who aren't doing anything, this question is the ultimate blow to the ego -- the punch to the gut. I dread having conversations with strangers, and thus somewhat dread meeting new people these days solely because of this question and many others like it. I think you can probably empathize when I say sometimes I just want to reply: "It's none of your damn business."

I'm becoming a grump.

Okay, I'm being melodramatic... I am not a grump. I am just sick of feeling like I need to have an excuse tagged on the end of every "still searching for a job..." along with a list of 10 things I'm "trying to work on right now." Talk about pressure!

I don't want to get testy with people on the repeated subject of the "job search", and I don't want to leave every post-grad-plan conversation with a sour puss face and elevated blood pressure. Clearly people are just asking to try to be nice/sound interested/make conversation, and I know that 99% of the time no one is judging me, except myself.

And that's when I realized that it is just me. There's this little piece in each of us that doesn't have complete faith in ourselves, and that's the piece of you that gets so temperamental. The problem is that piece is magnified right now; our insecurities are like white blood cells attacking a virus, heading straight to the part that's lacking: our fulfillment.

It's really hard right now, and no one is jumping through hoops to hire you anyway so you start to feel like why bother. We feel stuck with this looming fear that we'll never find anything that makes us happy. Which turns into: if we are getting this discouraged and frustrated now, what does that mean for our future?

I have to be honest, today I am feeling kind of low. On days like this I wonder if I'll ever find a job, or that I'll get stuck doing something I just spent years of time and money trying to avoid doing. I even start to question decisions I made months or even years ago that I haven't looked back on until now: "Maybe I should have pursued that Business Minor instead; what if I had gotten a second internship?" Why am I even thinking about these things, because since when are those very minor details even that important? Especially in a time where nearly the only people I know who have jobs got them through connections.

It's like a relationship gone stale: your mind keeps running through memories and moments you had, the decisions you made, looking for what you could have changed that would have changed the position you are in now.

So why are these trivial decisions in my life up until this point haunting me?


I guess it comes down to two things that all humans share: fear and the desire for control. Of course it is scary to think that we could have had some control at some point over the position we're in now. And the only reason this position is scary in the first place, is because we fear that we may never get out of it -- that the "rut" that we keep reminding ourselves is temporary because we "just graduated" could become permanent.

All I can say to that is: yes, it is true that had I never changed my minor from business to art, or decided to participate in fewer extra curricular activities so I could spend more time on my school work, or had I taken a different route on dozens of decisions in my undergrad life, I may have ended up in a slightly different position. Maybe I would have a job or been in graduate school, but I -- and you -- have to keep in mind that there is a reason we did not make those decisions the first time around. Sure, some of our reasons were probably better than others -- I probably could have spent more time studying for that test if I skipped the dinner party with my friends -- but really, which of those things do you remember now that you are standing here longingly looking back?

I remember every dinner party, but I could not tell you what that test was on or how I felt while I was taking it. I can't even remember what grade I got on it. School work is your priority in college. But, as one of my professors used to always say jokingly, "studying is always interfering with college," and the "college" of that statement is the part that's going to stay in your heart forever.

Now I'm not urging you who are still in school to ditch your work and party. Rather, I am acknowledging the fact that we have all had to make a lot of tough decisions as students; and while many of them we could have made differently, our lives will always have an abundance of decisions to make... we didn't blow our one shot. Just because we didn't choose the path we thought we would when we started, or even when we graduated college doesn't mean that we need to be ready with a list of excuses for our current status. No one will think you're nuts for saying, "I honestly don't know what I want to do with my life yet." You may find some people will look taken aback, but most will answer -- even at two or three times your age and wisdom -- "Hey, neither do I."

Thanks for letting me vent today. Stay tuned -- this week I'll be looking for the cure to restore faith in the self.