Being an introvert sometimes doesn’t mean that you’re shy or awkward or selfish. A lot of the time you can go out and do what any normal person can, but then you need to recharge your batteries alone and get your much needed me-time.
What I’ve noticed lately is that the life of my batteries is getting shorter and shorter, but interestingly enough, when they’re charged, I absolutely need to get out there and do everything with everyone. I remember when I was younger summertime would drive me up the wall because I lived “in the boonies” as my friends called it, but in reality, I just wasn’t in a suburb. I lived on one of those busy roads about a 10-minute drive from a cul-de-sac, but riding my bike was too dangerous and my parents weren’t always there to drive me, and so often I was frustrated that I had to spend virtually my entire summer with just my little brother. But that’s a story for another time.
Now, I find myself re-thinking my career choices. I’m too embarrassed to tell my family and friends that I’d be happy to go through life as a paper pusher, someone behind the scenes and quietly filing paperwork with the occasional phone call to satisfy my gung-ho batteries. I’d be happy with something with public relations too, carefully marketing whoever I’m working for to appeal to others, because whatever else I am, I am a people pleaser with some selfish needs.
I guess it’s just hard because I chose the journalism career path in high school. I started out with the best intentions. To tell the truth, and make sure it gets out there. But truthfully, I’m scared to go after the truth. I’m not a relentless interviewer digging up the good stuff on a slug. I’m not an investigator. That’s all extremely extroverted stuff that I can’t handle.
It sucks because now it’s my concentration in my major. Journalism. I’d be happy writing fiction and fantasy all day, but all these literary theory classes and journalism research sessions have sapped the creative imagination right out of me, and I cringe every time someone scoffs at me for being an English Writing major anyways because they think fantasy is exactly what I want to write about.
I know I have to be sensible and pick something out like public relations, communications, public administration or something along those lines that will get me a comfortable desk job without having to do much math. The problem is that graduation is only 26 days away and it’s way too late to change my mind now.
Bottom line, look at what I’ve done. Look at what I’ve chosen. I made a decision way too soon because I didn’t know who I was yet. You need to take time to really, really do a self-examination of yourself, and even then that takes more time because I know for damn sure when I picked my major I had no idea of all the heartache and soul searching I was going have to do in my three years since.
Take your time. Go out and see the world while you have the chance. Because I didn’t. And now I’m stuck with $40k plus in loans and a major I have to convince myself I know what to do with.
