This post wasn’t planned, but here we are – I applied to college! It feels surreal to say (or write) that out loud, but after everything I’ve been through, I need every bit of hope I can get. So yes, I’m doing this, and I’m proud of myself.

The details

I applied to a four-year university – a big step into the “real world.” If I’m accepted, I’ll be majoring in graphic design. My dream has always been to study interior design, but the program at my dream school is in a major city and costs twice as much as the one I applied for. Boo.

After some research, though, I realized that a degree in graphic design could easily open doors to interior design with minimal extra training or education. That feels like a win-win for me. Plus, working from home someday sounds ideal – I’m such a homebody. I’m not sure if that’s a good long-term goal yet, but one step at a time, right?.

Trying college(again)

This isn’t my first college rodeo. Right out of high school, my guidance counselor strongly encouraged me (read: pushed me and everyone else in my class) to go to college. It felt like their personal mission to boost the school’s acceptance stats, but hey, I digress.

So, I ended up at a private four-year school in the tiniest of tiny towns. I lasted exactly one semester before, as my father so lovingly put it, I “blew the whole thing out my ass.” Pops always did have a way with words. But I knew he was right- and it hurt.

A delightful cocktail of severe mental illness, homesickness, and the fallout from a toxic friend group hit me like a truck. Not a single class passed, but oh, those student loans sure didn’t miss their mark. And since it was private school, you can bet those loans came with a hefty price tag.

Looking back, I wasn’t ready. Part of me knew that then, but I was doing what everyone else was doing. I figured it was what I was supposed to do, right?

Second times the charm

Kind of. But not really.

After the whole private-school debacle, I decided to take baby steps and get my certificate in medical coding. It felt like a safe, manageable option at the time. And guess what? I crushed it. I got an A in every class (except one, which I failed because I lost both of my grandmothers and, oh, also got a dry socket from a wisdom tooth extraction – fun times).

But here’s the kicker: once I got to the actual coding part, I realized I hated it. And not just “ugh, this isn’t fun” hated it. I mean full-blown “entire American healthcare system, I’m looking at you” hated it. Whoops.

This time feels different

So here I am, trying again. It’s scary, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. But it’s also exciting! This time, I feel like I’m choosing this path for me, not for anyone else or because it’s what I think I’m supposed to do. And who knows? Maybe my blog will look better because of it.

Sure, I’m still figuring things out. But applying to college? Filling out the FAFSA by myself? That’s a big deal. It’s a step forward, and for the first time in a long time, I feel good about my decision.

I know full time school for my big-girl degree will be a lot, but I’ll try every way I can to get myself prepared before the fall. Aaand I haven’t even been accepted yet. Am I ever living in the moment? Absolutely not. So if you’re reading this, please tell the universe to send some luck my way – I’ll take all the good vibes I can get!

♡