I don’t know what I want to do with my life. It’s cliche, really. Another millennial having a crisis—wonder what her purpose in life is. I’m sure someone older and “wiser” would tell me that in his days people didn’t have the time to think about what their purpose in life was. Maybe they’re right in that my generation worries too much about finding meaning. I know I certainly do.
I used to spend hours thinking about what I “wanted to be when I grew up”. For years, I was certain that I would pursue a literary career; I was going to be a successful writer. Instead, I pursued the more sensible profession of engineering. The four years of university were not at all fun. I envy those who say college was the best years of their lives. Had I absolutely loved engineering, perhaps I would have seen this as a worth sacrifice. And while I will admit that there were many aspects of engineering that I found fulfilling and fascinating, deep down I always knew it wasn’t truly my calling. Having jumped from university to working, I’m not sure I ever sat down to think about what I actually wanted to do.
Years after graduating, I find myself at a crossroad. I am turning twenty-six in a few days, and the ever closeness to thirty has—as it does to many—me becoming rather introspective. Can I picture the next five years of my life? I used to be able to. Now, instead, I find myself looking into a fog. I can barely see my arm reaching forward. It makes me panic, because for the first time in years I realize how little I know about myself. Once a confident and ambitious child, I’ve become weary and disengaged. Where did the passion go? I lay awake each night wondering when I will find it once more