Results season is upon us and I don’t know about you, but my Facebook feed is
one of the most dramatic things I’ve ever seen; people sharing their graduation photos, their super-duper new job at that top firm, their engagement photos, pictures of their child(ren)?!!, marriages they’ve attended, their own weddings. You know what I mean…
When I was younger, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I flirted with the idea of becoming a palaeontologist and studying fossils. I toyed with the idea of becoming a museum curator. All of this at a time when my classmates were proclaiming that they wanted to be ballerinas, teachers and astronauts. I was a weird child.
As I grew up, I realised I’m not very good at chemistry- out with the idea of being a palaeontologist. I’m also not very good at spending lots of time being quiet and a tonne of paperwork- bye bye museum curator future.
When it got to university, I really had no idea what I wanted to do. Everyone seemed to have their lives figured out! While some of my friends went to do medicine and law, others enrolled on apprenticeship schemes with a guaranteed job at the end. In a way, I was kind of envious that they had clear plans for the future. What did I want to do?
I ended up choosing to study Classics (Latin and Ancient Greek) and If I’m totally honest, I’m not sure I’d have made the same choice if I were to choose today. It was a rushed decision taken a couple of days before UCAS applications were due *(UCAS is an online system where you apply to universities in the UK. If you’re really interested, you can find out more here).
And while I do enjoy my university course, I have no intentions on becoming a teacher- which is one of the only things that directly stems from a degree in Latin and Ancient Greek… I chose my course based on the fact that I was kind of interested in Ancient History, had always wanted to study Latin (weird child) and because there was the opportunity to do a year abroad- a year in Paris to be precise.
A couple more years rolled by: exams were taken, a handful of relationships, volunteering in museums, nights out with friends, waitressing, more university courses, more volunteering, more waitressing, some reception work, a few internships, more nights out with friends, more courses, more job applications. I was drained.
And throughout all this time, I had never really considered my future at any point.
Just before I moved to France, I bought my first ever camera (I also broke up with my 5 year on-off boyfriend).I had been on Instagram for a couple of months just taking quick snapshots on my smartphone and sharing a bit of info with each picture. It turns out, I really enjoyed sharing images and words with an online community. Most people were super supportive. I then started this blog (yay)!
Fast forward a year and here I am, finally in Paris. Recently turned 22, I’ve been thinking more about the future. I never thought I’d start a blog, get into freelance writing or even pick up a camera. But here we are!
I’m happier than I was in all those previous years despite the fact that I don’t know where I’m going…
So where does this bring us? Well, yesterday, I was wandering along the streets of the 10e arrondissement. Checking out the bars, thinking about the various emails I had to send, taking pretty pictures. In fact, I was thinking about the fact that France is the only place I’ve ever been where I can imagine myself living like long-term (and how happy I am)…
Dazed, I wandered onto a zebra crossing.
A taxi horn blared loudly.
And just like that, my train of thought was broken.
I still don’t know where I’m going and that’s okay…