After the conversation with my uncle’s friend last week, part of me was disappointed. That is, until I realized something.
I don’t really have to choose between my two favorite things anymore. I’m still going to write, of course, but not necessarily having to figure out how to climb the broadcasting latter leaves me free to focus on Spanish more.
However, I made the mistake of mentioning this to my psychologist on Friday. I don’t really remember the whole conversation, because as soon as she said “I don’t think a Masters in Spanish …” I started seeing red.
I feel like no one has any idea – or cares, for that matter – about my passion for Spanish. They clearly don’t see the value in it that I do. I know I made mistakes during undergrad. Believe me, I’m just now learning not to kick myself for them. But said mistakes do not automatically mean that Spanish was the only factor that contributed to my struggles. Far from it, actually. But it doesn’t seem that the people around me will ever be able to understand that. All I wanted at that point during undergrad was a chance to go back and fix my mistakes. I know I could have.
I really wish people would stop giving me suggestions for how to live my life. I’m 24, and at this point, I like to think I know who I am. If I want to be a Spanish professor and do some freelance writing on the side – which actually does sound quite nice at the moment – then so be it. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, and I can definitely find a way to make it happen.
People’s opinions need to stop crowding my head so I can actually hear myself think about what I want for my life and come up with a plan to get it. I mean, is it so wrong to want to have my cake and eat it too?