Saturday, September 5, 2015

Dear 21-year-old-self,

Last week was the first day of my senior year of college. Fresh textbooks filled new backpacks. Groups gossiped about their summers. Syllabi were passed out on crisp bleached paper.

The only issue is, I never showed up.

You graduate high school, you get into college, you graduate in four years, you get a job. The curriculum was laid out, the expectations were clear. I, however, have never been one to follow rules.

Who dictates that we should graduate in four square years? When I started my freshman year, I used to plan out my classes for hours, trying to see if I could graduate in three years. You'll show them, I would tell myself, as if this was all a competition.

The question is not "How fast can I graduate college?"

The question should be "Who the hell cares how long it takes me to graduate college?"

I log onto Facebook. My friends are graduating, getting married, and having children. I can feel the anxiety boiling up, urging me to get out there and check all my boxes.

And then I have to remind myself that I'm twenty-one years old. I shouldn't feel rushed to do these things. I have no dependents. I have no mortgage. I have a disposable income.

I finally had to sit myself down and have a heart to heart.

"What do you want to do most in the world?"

Easy. "Travel."

 
So as university students eagerly made their last minute schedule changes on August 9th, I dropped all of my classes and bought a plane ticket. If I have a passion, and the means to live it out, why should another year of school stand in my way?

Sorry, class of 2016. I'm sure you won't miss me too much. Enjoy your exams and papers, I'll get my share of that next year.

Why should a four-year timestamp be placed on my education? No thank you, American educational system. I think I'd rather see the Bahamas, and Scotland, and Iceland, and England, and Germany, and Thailand, and wherever else the wind takes me because Lord knows I have yet to buy a plane ticket home yet.