Dear family and friends, if I told you I was finally happy without drugs or anything bad, would you be mad at me?

If you answered no, then keep reading.

If you answered yes, then please leave. You don't deserve to see me happy.

I don't think you understand how amazing it feels to finally be good at something. Put yourself in my shoes. You've always been horrible at school, no matter how hard you try. The only thing you were good at was English.

Every subject was kind of just slightly passing. You ended up graduating with honors(still don't know how), and that was the proudest moment of your life. Everyone was so proud of you because they all thought you would barely even pass high school.

You go to college, but you weren't smart enough to go to the only university you applied to, so you go to the small community college there. You, again, barely pass, but you get into the big university that you were practically raised to attend.

Going there should've been so much fun, the best time of my life, and meeting the best friends I will ever have, right? I mean that's what everyone has told me from the very beginning. It was fun, to begin with, but not because of the actual school part of it.

It took me three years of taking college courses to realize that I hated everything about college. I hated the people that were supposed to be with me forever. I hated the classes that I dreaded going to every day. I hated pretending to study because I could never get my head fully into it to actually study.

I started hating the beautiful campus, which I mean there's something definitely wrong if you can hate such a gorgeous campus!

Everything started falling apart, I hated going to class so much that I would just stop going. I was so unhappy in this toxic town. I cried for a week straight. Then my mom called me saying my grandpa was doing worse, they said he had days until he passed.

My mom is a single mom, she's my best friend, and I knew this would be hard on her. The second I got the news right before my sorority's chapter, I packed my bags and told my friends that I was going home and wasn't coming back for a while. He died 10 days after my mom called me.

She was so strong, she even went to work the day after he passed. I knew she was being strong because I was there. It was hard, but we all knew it was going to happen.

Fast forward a few months. I didn't know what I wanted to do. Should I get a job and just work the rest of my life? Should I go to a closer to home University? Should I go to seminary school? None of these appealed to me.

I always loved doing hair and makeup since high school theater, when I barely even knew what I was doing. Somehow I always figured out what to do for each character in the play. I just felt like that's what I was good at doing, but I didn't give it much thought because you can't make a career out of makeup and hair(I don't know why I thought that.)

Now I'm in cosmetology school, and the instructors rave about how amazing I am at everything I do.

Wait.... they love what I do??

Am I doing this right?

No way, I totally messed up on something, didn't I?

They told me it's great, and that this is what I'm meant to do. I finally found what I love doing, and what I'm good at doing. I thought I would be stuck doing something I hated for the rest of my life, but I'm not. I made the hard decision to leave college, and come to cosmetology school which sounds like a downgrade, but it's the biggest upgrade in my life. I finally want to go to class every day.

Everything is finally coming together.