Leading up to my decision to pursue the arts (specifically theatre) in college, I read a lot of articles and blog posts from people reaffirming to both themselves and others that yes, this is what they want to do, no, you can't convince me to do something else, and absolutely, the study of the arts is essential to preserving culture. Although all of these things are true (arguably), I've always felt the need to say something about the inevitable fear that comes along with not only going into college (a topic that has been completely beat to death), but the additional fear of majoring in something that is considered by a lot of people to be a completely useless degree (another topic that has seen its fair share of discussion). Because as much as I hate to admit it, those types of essays can come off as dishonest. Of course, no one knows for sure how they'll fare in any sort of major or career, and no one, particularly artists, are ever completely, absolutely, 100 percent sure of any decision they make.
Yes, I'm terrified. Yes, my parents are terrified. Maybe more than I am. Yes, I'm definitely getting judged by family, friends, and teachers alike. Yes, there have totally been nights when I've laid awake thinking "What have I done?" I want to talk about these things. I want people to know that this is how I feel and that I'm experiencing a tremendous amount of anxiety. It feels like admitting these thoughts is the same as saying to the cynics who insist on judging me and everyone like me "You're right, I'm being stupid and I'm definitely going to regret majoring in theatre" I don't want to prove them right.
I don't want to admit something I've tried to suppress because I want to appease people and their judgements. I should admit something I've tried to suppress because I don't want to suppress it anymore; because I want to let other people in my position know that it's okay, I get it, and I'm with you.
Yes, sometimes I'm completely terrified of what I've gotten myself into. But these moments don't even come close to outweighing the moments I've thought to myself "My god, I'm so happy. I'm so excited," and the feeling that working my ass off to achieve my successes has been worth it. Here's the thing: yes, I could have decided to pursue teaching or journalism or social work or any of the hundreds of careers that constitute a "real job," and still fail at any of them. So if I'm going to fail, I might as well fail at doing something that I love. That's not even really failing, is it?
(See, look what I've done. I wanted to write something about how overwhelmingly positive pieces about pursuing the arts are dishonest, and that's what this turned into. Oh well.)
