Ever since I was in elementary school, I was always fond of science. Whether it was being my kindergarten class's scientist of the month, or competing at DPA for 4H, I couldn't get enough. It was the end of my seventh grade year that I decided I definitely wanted to possess a greater knowledge of science and medicine, and I knew I was going to do whatever it took to make sure that happened. Upon reaching high school, I took biology, multiple chemistry classes, and fought my way into getting on the roster for the selective anatomy and physiology class, my senior year.

It was during my time in high school that I became positive of what I wanted to do for the rest of my life: I wanted to become a plastic surgeon. There was no doubt about it- the human body fascinated me. Having been insecure with my body from a young age, I lit up at the thought of having the opportunity to help others feel better about their bodies through various medical procedures.

During senior year, I was set. I applied to colleges, set as a dual degree in biology and chemistry to put myself on the path to med school. Once I decided on the college I wanted to go to, I arranged my classes around what I would need to get that dual degree. I began taking the biology class that seems to be one of the most difficult on my campus; however, things took a drastic change. I was doing great with everything at first, but soon things began to slip.

Ultimately, I ended up not passing the class. I practically felt my entire future crumbling in front of my eyes as I looked a the F on my transcript. I felt as if I had let everyone down, from my parents to my teachers to even my dogs. As I realized just what had happened, I began to rethink my entire future. Is this really what I wanted anymore? Was I even good at what I had wanted to do for so long? Was I smart enough to become a plastic surgeon? I didn't know.

Bottom line, I pulled a Ross and Rachel. I took a break. I needed some time to reconsider everything without the monumental pressure of possibly failing another course that correlated to my future. As I've spent some time apart from my beloved science department, I've come across so many other students in the exact same boat as I am. They don't know what they want to do with their future wither. Think about it: From the age of 18 and on, we're expected to know what we want to do with the rest of our lives until we retire at 65. Crazy, right?

My first semester at college taught me a lot of things (more on that later), but the most important thing it taught my by far was that it's OK to not know what you're doing. Many college students do a "victory lap," or even do six or seven years of schooling. It's OK to not have your future planned out, regardless of what I thought in seventh grade. So, fellow college students, breathe and try again. Don't be afraid to mess up (that doesn't mean deliberately fail; don't do that). It will be OK. I promise.