Being a "Real" Person...

By Missy S.


A few weeks ago, I got a phone call from my dad. I was comfortably studying for an art history exam, so I let the call roll over to voicemail. While taking a study break, I listened to his message. What my dad had called to tell me was that putting cookie dough batter in the refrigerator for 12 to 24 hours prior to baking makes better cookies. Curious as to why this was, I called my dad back while taking a study break. He explained to me that it just does, which was rather unsatisfactory, but what he proceeded to say was quite possibly the most disturbing thing he has ever asked me.

“What are your plans for the future?” he probed. I was in shock. As a junior, with second semester quickly approaching and college coming to an end, this was the last thing I want to think about.

My inability to answer the question didn’t stop my dad from probing. He continued to ask me if I’m going to graduate or law school, where I’m considering going, when I’m applying, when I’m taking the LSAT and GRE, what programs I plan to do, and what I plan to do after all of that, if that’s what I decide to do after college.

My dad majored in landscape design. Needless to say, he never even considered taking the LSAT or GRE.

I couldn’t break from the shock. The fact that I had to think about all of this in addition to memorizing about 200 pieces of art that I couldn’t care less about was mindboggling.

In an attempt to make the horrifying questions stop, I responded, “I want to get an JD/MBA with a focus on marketing from Stern or the Business School at Columbia, but we will see from there what happens.”

Thinking this would satisfy his curiosity, I was content with my answer and began to feel relieved.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. The questions kept coming. He asked about every detail possible. He was asking me specific details about both programs, when I would be taking the standardized tests, and even where in New York I planned on living.

This had to stop. I put my foot down. “Honestly,” I said, at this point out of frustration, “I can’t think about next week let alone next year or the year after. Is this a conversation we really need to have now?”

“No,” he responded, the relief began to set in again. I should have expected what he was about to say. “You’re right, we should be discussing your study abroad options.”

Wonderful, another subject I had absolutely no desire to think about.

After a few minutes of discussing the pros and cons of each program I applied to, we hung up, my dad satisfied he got some answers, and me, well a wreck. Thinking about the future is horrifying. My roommate and I have even imposed a “no future” rule, because we both panic when the future comes up.

Perhaps I’m just not ready for “real” responsibility, even though I should be ready for it at this point in my life. I’ve always been self-sufficient. I got my first job when I was 13 (although it wasn’t exactly challenging). Since my freshman year in high school I’ve juggled work, school, sports, and other extra-curricular activities, and excelled. But the anxiety of a “real” life and being a “real” person is just too much for me to handle.

If it’s not the responsibility factor, could it be that I feel lost? My parents have always told me to get my goals. They never limited me in any way, they never said no, and they certainly never let me think I couldn’t do anything I put my mind to. I think this is the root of the problem. Ever since I was a kid, I always had lofty goals. Obviously I realized that some things were out of reach, but not others. When people put me down and told me that GW wasn’t an option I should consider, I proved them wrong, I got in, and I went.

But ever since I got to GW, I’ve felt lost. I was one of those people who actually believed that applying to college undeclared was a smart choice. That was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made. No, applying undecided wasn’t the issue, but putting off deciding was. If I had some idea of what I wanted to major in, I wouldn’t have used trial and error to decide what I’m interested in.

Here in lies the problem: I’ve always known what I’m interested in, but I never knew how to apply it or how to make a career out of it. Now that I do, I feel screwed. I feel unprepared for my future, which is ultimately why I’m terrified to grow up and be a “real” person.

Luckily, I’ve devised a plan. Put off “real” responsibility for as long as possible, enjoy life’s road bumps, and take everything with a grain of salt. Who knows, one wrong turn down the road of life could actually be the best thing you’ve ever done.