College is suppose to be the best four years of your life, you meet your “life-long” friends, quite possibly your soul mate, and instead of sitting through every damn boring subject that never interested you in high school, you choose your major and decide what your classes will be focused on for the next four year because, quite frankly, it's what you will be doing for a living for the rest of your life. That is why choosing your major is extremely important. Coming from a family who all have majored in some sort of health science, I was forced to take the nursing career path but it’s not my choice, it’s my parents'. 

Torn between having to pay around $80K myself for my dream job as a journalist somewhere out in NYC, writing life altering articles, fashion advice, and events that effect everyone or my parents paying for all four years of my nursing school, I decided to go the easy route and take my parents up on their offer and, boy, do I wish I could go back to my senior year of high school and reconsider my decision.

Sometime between my eight grade and freshman year I found a love in writing. Since my first day of high school to my current sophomore year of college I have kept a journal logging the good and the bad time, having a daily quote to try and brighten up my morning, and honestly just getting my feelings out on paper. I never had a bad childhood, I grew up in a loving family who catered to my every need and raised me correctly but throughout anyone’s life events take place that no one would imagine happening.

Around sixth grade I developed a close relationship with a girl in my class and before I knew it she was my best friend, while spending every waking moment at each other’s houses. Her family became my second family, and I trusted them. Her brother, who was around seven or so years older than us, showed an interest in me no young adolescent girl would never see as wrong until touching became involved. From sixth grade to my freshman year of high school, he would molest me while my friend did nothing about it, just repeatedly telling me, “He’s only joking around, you don’t have to tell anyone about it” and that’s just what I did, I buried it.

The mental effects these years had on me still haunt me today. I wasn’t until high school when I got the courage to tell my English teacher. I’m not sure how or why she formed such an amazing bond of trust with me but I'm so grateful for her guidance. While it all took place my mind pondered: “What was wrong with me? Why did this happen to me? I’m so stupid for not saying anything earlier.” I blamed myself for what had happen and I, to a certain extend, shared these feeling with her and her exact words to me were “take it all out on a piece of paper, whatever you feel you cannot tell me, or anyone write it down. Get it all out.” And that’s is exactly what I did. Writing for me is an escape, a place I’m capable of not being judged to “say” how I feel and to simply just get it all out. As I sit in class listening to my teach lecture about the nervous system to whatever other body area it is she rambles on about all I wonder what ill come across next on website such as total sorority move, The Odyssey, and even her campus.

My science classes have grown on me and yes, I enjoy it but my real passion lies within writing. There something that just grows inside of me knowing that sharing my experience, knowledge, encounters, and etc. could quite possibly bring joy or excitement to another person. Girls and guys who are going to be entering college in the near future please listen, if you every find yourself in the same predicament that I was placed in, follow your heart. Do what you love, become what you want to be not something you parents or whatever society is telling you is the “better career choice.” If money is a problem, I’ve come across so many helpful websites that can help you mange how to get through college. Also the amount of scholarships that are out there is ridiculous. Follow your hearts, dreams and hope. In the end you’re the one living out your life… do you truly want to be miserable?