“What's your major this year?"

“What will you be doing after college?"

“What's the battle plan at the moment?

“What have you accomplished thus far?"

“What are you going to do with the rest of your life?"

Maybe the last one was a little over exaggerated -- maybe not. These are all the questions we, young, college-aged individuals endure when we come home for the weekend, or over the summer. We are bombarded with long overdue questions from eager great aunts and grandparents, and feel the sting of embarrassment when we don't exactly know what to say. We secretly roll our eyes and sigh of absolute irritation and think to ourselves, “Lady, I don't even know, right now."

But we're supposed to have it all figured out, right? So we think.

“What will you be doing after college?" is a great one; risky, but a good example nonetheless. It's questions like these that make us young folks want to run for the hills, or better yet, hide underneath our covers with our stuffed animals feeling safe. Because the thing is, as together as we might seem to have it, some of us don't know what we want to do after college. Some of us don't even know what we want right now. The pressure is real, but we have to make that okay.

Ever since I was in high school, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Eek, even saying that sounds scary. I had my heart set on being an author -- nothing else. Sure, I loved art, played violin and did ballet tap and jazz -- but at the end of the day, there was only one dream job for me: to be a novelist. Once I got accepted to UW-Waukesha when I was nineteen years old, the dream career was becoming stronger in my sights. I enrolled in a creative writing class, became a part of an online blogging website my mother found out about from a coworker, and began exploring different writing styles. This was the first time in my life when things felt definite, and the ambition to become an author was stronger than ever.

Last August, I transferred to UW-Whitewater, where I majored in English with a minor in film. That's when everything changed. When friends and family asked me what I wanted to do and where I was headed, I usually responded saying that I was an English major and I wanted to be a writer. Looking back, I realize now that it's hard being an English major when you want to be a writer. There were so many things I didn't know, or wasn't educated about. Still, I felt like I knew exactly what I wanted to be, that everything was just so simple and picture perfect. This was my five-step plan:

1. Spend the next three years at UW-Whitewater majoring in English.

2. Graduate with my bachelors degree.

3. Find an internship.

4. Begin my own freelance writing.

5. Hope to be discovered while working hardcore and getting my work out there.

So straightforward, and simple. Of course, it would be hard work, but it was so solidified, and I knew that this was a road I could easily follow and not be lead off track. Little did I know that college isn't necessarily like that, but quite the opposite.

Throughout my second semester, I struggled insanely. I have a math learning disability , so that was one area of stress, as well as continuously taking multiple general education classes when I was almost twenty and itching to focus on my passions. Throughout this, I realized that I wanted to be an English professor so I could make a living as well as write on the side. It sounded perfect to me, and for once in quite some time, I felt as though I was starting down a new, renewed path.

As I continued to struggled that semester, I realized that maybe being an English professor wasn't the route for me. I wasn't giving up, but slowly feeling out my options. One weekend at home, while talking about school, my grandma suggested that I be a special education instructor. And just like that, I was hit with this sort of epiphany sensation. Why hadn't I thought of this before? It was beyond perfect for me! I could help those who were similar to me -- people who struggled with learning, and needed help and patience. I could give that to them. Still, I was overwhelmed by my rapid changing of ideas and goals. Even then, I was considering changing my minor to theater or art. This wasn't part of “the plan," so I felt lost and beyond terrified. But isn't this what college was about?

It is summer, right now, and I am currently working full time at a country club in my hometown, and writing for a personal online blog, as well as this one, and trying to find a dancing studio where I can continue my hobby of tap dancing. Right now, I'm trying to focus on the things that I love and not worry so much about what is to come. I am twenty years old, and I realize that most people my age are already too hard on themselves, trying to focus on what they should be, instead of focusing on who they want to become.

Bottom line -- don't feel like you're alone if you are caught up in a mess between this or that major, a double major, choosing between those minors or going on that trip to study abroad, and making your family proud of you. Yes, it's absolutely great to think about the future and to be responsible, but please, don't get so caught up in it that you forget who you are, or more importantly, you forget to be happy.

I discovered this my second semester of college at UW-Whitewater. If there is one thing I learned my sophomore year at college, it's that things really do change. Right now, I feel like my life is absolute chaos and a messy disaster. (I guess it could be a beautiful disaster if we want to be optimistic.) And I know I feel this way because my “plan" of simply sticking to one thing just because it's easier, is scary. I am starting to accept that there are other things that I may want to explore, and not having one simple explanation for all of the people that ask “what do you want to do?" is okay. It's more than okay -- it's how it should be. Now, when people ask me what I'm doing with my life, or what will happen, I usually just say, “Oh, you know, I'm all over the map right now. English, art, dancing, currently an English major, but I might declare a special education major next spring. We'll see what happens."

We are young, and this is our time to experience things and make mistakes and to just live. Isn't that how you find yourself? And pretty soon you'll start to feel comfortable and okay in your "unofficial, uncertain" status. Embrace it while you can.