Creative Nonfiction Memoir Draft 1 (Title Undecided)

If you ask anyone who knows me to tell you what I love to do, they’d tell you reading and writing. They’d also tell you that I love to eat pasta, but for the sake of this essay I’ll just stick to the first two.

I began reading at a very young age as my mother instilled a love of books in me. I remember when I finished my first chapter book in first grade and the feeling of accomplishment I felt was akin to what someone feels when they finish the Boston marathon. In the years that followed I continued reading as I progressed from Animal Ark books to Harry Potter to Gossip Girl to classic literature and everything in between.

Reading was my passion and it wasn’t long before I started writing my own stuff as well. My dream became to become a published author one day and although I’ve never actually finished a novel, I’ve come pretty close. In middle school I once wrote a story that was seventy pages long, front and back, that I used to regret never finishing. Looking back, it probably wasn’t my best work, but I was twelve and thought it was genius.

So, when I applied to UNH in the fall of 2009 it was only natural that I apply as an English major. I was so excited to be spending days upon days reading classics such as Jane Austen, the Brontë’s, and whatever else I could get my hands on. I envisioned myself spending hours reading on T-Hall lawn under the biggest tree I could find. Most people’s thoughts about college involved heavy drinking and partying, while I spent my senior year of high school fantasizing about all the great literature I was sure to read.

Soon after my graduation, freshmen orientation was drawing close and I was suddenly receiving a lot of advice from my parents on future career options. “What can you even do with a degree in English? Will you even be able to get a job?” They were constantly nagging me about switching to a major with better job prospects to the point where I actually began to question it myself.

My boyfriend was no different with the nagging and he quickly brought up the idea of majoring in Psychology. He knew that I really enjoyed the class I had taken in high school and that psychologists generally made really good money. I knew he was right, but at the same time I had always promised myself that I would never have a job I didn’t love just because the pay was good. Both my boyfriend and my parents were putting a lot of pressure on me to change to my major though and I was starting to think that maybe they were right.

So, the morning that I was about to embark on my first overnight stay at UNH, I was very nervous. Not only was I going to be around a lot of strange people that I had never met before, but I had also decided that I would change my major. Against my better judgment, I had been convinced that Psychology was a better fit for me, and that one day I would have a job making a ton of money.

When the time came for everyone to split into different advising groups based on their majors, I quickly informed my English advisor that I wanted to switch. I was expecting a big fuss, lots of time and paperwork, and in the back of my mind I was holding onto the possibility that I wouldn’t be allowed to change my major that day. I was handed a single sheet of paper though and in less than five minutes I had given up my days of literature in exchange for personality tests and mental health assessments.

When school started that fall I was taking four classes; one being freshman English, another Intro to Psych, and the other two were random gen. ed. requirements. Everything was going smoothly and I enjoyed my classes. There was one problem though - my boyfriend. At that point Jake and I had been together for two years and were doing the long distance thing, with him being six hours away at his school in New York.

The long distance was hard and Jake began to pressure me to transfer to his school. There was a Psychology program there, but no English program, and that held me back. In the back of my mind I knew I was meant to be an English major, or at least an English minor, and there was no way I could go to a school that didn’t give me that option.

Second semester of freshman year was hard. I wasn’t taking any English classes and it felt strange. How could I be at school and not be studying the one thing I loved the most? When it came time to pick classes for first semester of sophomore year I knew that I needed to be taking at least one English class. As I told my advisor that I wanted to take Shakespeare, she looked at me like I was crazy. “Why would you take that just for fun? You’re a Psych major”, she said to me.

That fall I realized that taking Shakespeare was probably the best thing I could have done for myself. I absolutely loved it. It was exactly where I belonged and I liked it better than either of the Psychology classes I was taking at the time. Knowing this, my advisor began talking about me having a dual major of English and Psych. I spent a lot of time thinking about that idea, but deep down I knew what I really wanted to do.

Second semester of sophomore year I officially became an English major and it was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Psychology had never been right for me, and although I found it interesting, I knew that I would never enjoy a career in the field. At the same time though, I didn’t know what kind of career I wanted with an English degree. This is what held me back from telling my parents and Jake that I had switched majors.

They knew I was thinking about it, and I could tell that they were skeptical about the idea, but they never told me not to do it. When I told them that I actually switched though, they were kind of quiet. The first thing all of them asked was what kind of job I wanted. Before I knew it, everyone was asking me that question. It’s a hard one to answer when you yourself aren’t even sure.

I always knew that I loved to write though and I began to consider a career in journalism. I began to write for the school paper and over the summer I landed an internship with a local daily paper. It was great to finally know what I wanted to do and to be able to tell people that I had a plan. As the summer wore on though I began to consider a career as a lawyer. As if I really needed to throw another kink in the plan.

This semester as a junior I’m taking English classes to work towards my major, which I’m behind in. Most junior Journalism majors are taking upper level classes, while I’m still in the five hundred level. I’m also taking a Psychology class because I’ve decided to have it as a minor instead of letting the classes I’ve already taken go to waste.

It’s been really hard not to regret wasting so much time in a major that I didn’t even want to be in in the first place. Regret won’t change what happened and I’d rather not waste any more time by keeping my thoughts in the past. I just have to keep moving forward because what’s done is done.

Halfway through my college experience now, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve learned a lot about English, about Psychology, and now about law and Justice Studies. Everything I’ve learned is important but nothing is as important as the lesson I’ve learned from this experience. I wasn’t following my heart and I let other people control my life and how I would live it. I never thought I would let my parents, let alone my boyfriend, do that to me.

I know now that I am the only one in control of my life. That’s the way it should be. If I’m not making these decisions for myself, how can I ever be happy? This goes for small decisions too though. Letting others think for me and tell me what will make me happy, will get me nowhere.

So, now with two years left at UNH I still need to figure out what I’d like to do for a career. Will I be a journalist, a lawyer, or maybe something completely different? No one knows. That’s the best part though. No one knows and no one can tell me which to choose. It’s a big decision for me to make, but as long as I follow my heart I know I can’t go wrong.