I Don't Know

It started with a conversation on ‘Reservoir Dogs’ in early August. 

Yes, ‘Reservoir Dogs,’ the movie. 

My boyfriend Buddy’s family is really into the film. They have a license plate series going. I had yet to see it so his step-dad Marcus offered me a viewing while Buddy and I were visiting the house. I promised to sit through the film in its entirety. 

In all honesty, I didn’t really like it and thought it lacked plot. I wasn’t sure how to break it to the family and quite honestly I felt bad doing so when Marcus asked for my opinion as we ate tacos. But somehow this led into a bigger conversation. 

All of this led to asking about my future. We were discussing my plans for the next year. 

Marcus asked me what I wanted to do. 

It was a question I had answered a thousand times. Relatives, friends, teachers and parents ask me all the time. But for the first time in my life, I replied “I don’t know.” 

As long as I can remember I have always had a carefully crafted answer. A long answer full of enthusiasm and passion about traveling the world and eventually living out a van and collecting stories of adventure. About ditching the suburbs and taking to the world as fast as I can and running away from the only home I’ve known. 

But that time, I found I was exhausted. The words I usually crafted couldn’t make it to my tongue and form into sentences.

In my brief pause I thought about the year I had experienced and how much I had changed. I thought about the fear rooted within me about my current major of journalism and whether or not it is right for me. I gave real consideration to those ideas I usually pitched and whether or not I would accomplish them. 

And in that moment, I didn’t know. 

I still don’t. 

Later that week I met up with my friend Holly. We discussed the future again and how neither of us know for sure whether our plans would work out, only that they were plans. It was nice to know we were both working with that fear. 

Somehow, there is a comfort in knowing all of us are at least a little bit lost and none of us know with certainty that we’ll ever achieve anything. All we know is that we have to try. 

We have to have courage, we have to go for every opportunity, even if we feel we’ll fail. I think that’s where the fear with my major in journalism comes from. I’ve wanted this for so long and now that I’m here actually putting in the wok, I’m terrified of failing. 

I’m terrified I’ll never find my place in the field or hate my job or never do half of the things I used to dream of doing back in high school. 

But regardless, I’d be more upset if I let that fear consume than if I did all that I could and still failed. 

So I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s OK not to know and it’s OK to be afraid. The one and only thing you owe to the notion of your future is do whatever you can to put together the one you want; even if you fail or your plans fall apart. You’ll always find a new path to pursue.