The truthful reality of not having an answer.
‘Last call for flight BA8619’ is announced over the tannoy at Grenoble airport. It’s mid-January and as my fellow passengers bustle around me scooping up their children and belongings after a blissful week in the mountains, my mood starts to sink. Strange really, considering I’ve just spent the last four days (literally) feeling on top of the world skiing with family and friends. You see, they’re all boarding a flight that will take them home to their steady lives, back to the stability of husbands/wives/partners/children/jobs(/bills). However, for me, the end of this trip couldn’t signify anything less similar – once I step onto my family home’s driveway, there’s no partner, job or bills waiting (not even a cat). In fact, there’s little more than weeks ahead sat in front of the computer blindly trying to decide on which path I wish for my CV to take me down – not so easy when you have absolutely no clue what to apply for. To turn a phrase, I feel as though I am looking for a needle in a haystack, a needle which is broken into hundreds of pieces, each of which is using Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak. I have reached a point in my early twenties where life feels like a puzzle in which none of the pieces fit and I’ll be honest, I’m starting to struggle.
Cut back five and a half years to when I was leaving college with three A*/A grade A Levels to my name – it was well-presumed that next few years would consist of a first-class degree (from a Russell Group university, of course); following this would naturally come the beginnings of a successful career, a stable relationship with a high-flyer who would go on to become my husband and, whilst we’re at it, let’s throw in the talk of babies soon after. It was expected that I would enter a respected profession (we’re talking medicine, law, education) – after all, what a waste that education and those grades would be otherwise. But what happens when none of this happens? When you decide against the traditional (expected) route of University, career, marriage, kids? Where does that leave you?
I can tell you that it’s left me on the (bloody fast) approach to 24 in a strange, difficult and downright confusing place. Don’t get me wrong, it has all been my decision to ‘rebel’ and spend the last few years differently to my peers. I am not penning this regretting the year spent in Paris as an Au Pair or the three ski seasons or the ten weeks in Africa. All of these things have given me what employers like to describe as ‘worldly’ experience, ‘transferable’ skills… But most importantly, they made me happy. The fact I never went to University has hung over my head ever since I declined my place (surprise, I had once actually applied) – I know there has been judgement, even from family and close friends; many people have questioned my choices with little consideration for how being asked when you’re going to ‘sort your life out’ and/or ‘get a proper job’ leaves you feeling. I’ll tell you, it’s as though how I’ve chosen to spend this part of my life has seemed pointless to them. It often becomes a job in itself having to bat away others’ opinions – ultimately, I found that after I stopped doing the jobs that were out of the ‘norm’, I got sad. Very sad. And I’m not sure if I’m yet back to feeling like ‘me’.
If I had a pound for every time I have been told that ‘the world is your oyster’, I wouldn’t be writing this now – I sure as hell would be sipping (guzzling) a cocktail (or ten) in the Maldives with no need for a job whatsoever. Clearly, that’s not the case – ‘go and find something different’ is easy enough to say but flipping hard to execute. It was always made to sound so very easy at school – as the subjects you are allowed to study are narrowed down, as too, it seems, are your prospects. And then comes University, where generally you only pursue one subject field which hypothetically should lead you nice and easily into a job – after all, you’re spending the best part of £55,000* getting there (though we all now know that’s not guaranteed). I loved everything at school (besides physics, but that’s another story), so I found these decisions relatively difficult and decided (was advised) to choose subjects that best ‘leave [my] options open’ (whilst also allowing me to pretend that I wanted to study medicine in order to impress people, and admittedly, myself). I now find myself with absolutely zero interest in furthering my knowledge in biology, maths or chemistry (though perhaps the English could still come in handy…).
I’m well aware that it’s up to me to discover what I’m interested in, work out what I’m passionate about and decide what makes me tick – after all, seeing as I will be working until I’m 70 (gasps) I need to make sure that it’s something I enjoy. I can’t say it helps that my Instagram feed is flooded with carefree pictures and videos of friends who continue to live the seasonal life or have gone on to find incredible ‘different’ jobs abroad, and I consider time and time again escaping back to that life. But that’s the problem, it would be an escape.
It’s understandable that friends and family wish to voice their opinions on what I should be doing and where my life should be heading, and I would like to reiterate that I am well-aware I am very lucky to have such a high level of interest. The thing is, having so many other people’s opinions swirling around your head does not help you to make up your own mind. I’m very conscious that I want to be in control of my next few steps, but once outside influence is in your head, it’s impossible to shake.
It’s the question I dread being asked the most but the question that is guaranteed to be sent my way at least once a day. And hey, it’s a question I’m guilty of asking too. But what I wish people would bear in mind is that sometimes when you don’t have a plan, you don’t need to be constantly reminded. My mood has peaked and troughed in the last year as I try and weave my way through decision-making, and the lows have felt extremely low – they still do. The panic of trying to come up with an answer to a question which makes you feel sick inside because you are scared of the simple fact that you do not have a bloody clue is something I can’t bear anymore.
Thank you for reading. To friends and family, by absolutely no means have I written this piece with any bad-will and I sure as hell hope you know that I’m incredibly grateful to have so many people around me who care and ultimately want to help. To anyone who may wonder why I have not confided in them about any of this before, it’s a conversation that I find difficult to have and prefer to run from – only now have I realised that for my own sanity I need to admit to and share these feelings.
(And hey, who knows, if enough of you read this piece I might even be able to pursue the one skill I still have from school even further.)
P.S. if anyone wishes to give me a job…: percivalgabrielle@gmail.com – hit me up.
*based on a three year degree:
£9,000 pa for fees
£6,000 pa for accomodation
£3,333 pa for food/drinks/living
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