I graduated from high school in 2008. I look back at those years with the fondest of memories. At the time, however, I really wanted to get the heck out of there, and my hometown. I was pretty convinced from all my life experiences that I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up; a fashion designer.

Fast forward to my second semester as an apparel design major. I was drowning in failed tests, the most hideously sewn garments (if you can call them that) possible, and the 100 miles I'd put between myself and my support system was not helping the situation. College was flippin' hard. I had been just barely average in high school. I had no clue how to study, or even how to focus, for that matter.

After squandering away my first summer as a college student doing literally nothing but going to bonfires and whining about being bored, I started my second year as an education major, thinking I would like to teach high school history. That’s right, the girl who at this point basically hated school, thought it would be a brilliant idea to shape the minds of future generations. My grades continued to suffer, and I was still totally lost about what I wanted to do.

Thankfully, I spent that next summer in Italy as a camp counselor. I was working over 40 hours a week, traveling every weekend without the guidance of a 'trusted adult,' and living in not one, but two cultures totally different from my safe home in Iowa. I finally realized it was okay to have no clue what I was doing, who I was, or where I wanted to end up.

I returned to my college town and started working on my gen-eds at a community college. Honestly, I should have gone to a community college straight out of the gate. Unfortunately, when I was 17, I saw that as some kind of failure, which resulted in even bigger failure. Eventually, I moved home, into my parents basement, and switched to college number three, which was literally the best possible thing I could have done. There is no shame in moving back home, especially when you need guidance, support, and a diet of something other than quesadillas and cheap vodka.

At that point, I had to get a real job. A 40 hours a week, full benefits, 401 something or another, job. Ironically, it was working in an office at a high school, the place I had been so eager to leave, and so not eager to work at. But, it was one of the best opportunities I have ever been given. My real job challenged me, and I was surrounded by certified advice givers: teachers.

A little segue on why teachers are God’s gift, and why you should seriously appreciate them. (Most of these statements apply to working with educators, but they are the same amazing people even while standing in front of your class, so utilize them!) When you come to work in a bad mood because you’re still living in your parents basement and your GPA is like .2, they just instantly know what to say. Sometimes they even buy you a pop from the not-so-secret staff only vending machine in hopes you’ll return to your usual smiley and sarcastic self. Teachers encourage you to "just do you", and give you excellent advice on how to do so; such as don’t stay up until 2 a.m. and just stop talking to that person who does nothing but upset you. They compliment your best work, and encourage you to keep trying when you fail. They also frequently tell you that they would die without you, which really is flattering. And, when after three years of being there go-to girl, you tell them you’re leaving, they are incredibly supportive (well, first they tell you they hate you, and some cry, but it’s with the best intentions).

It was my real job that showed me what it was like to have passion for something. It helped me to understand my strengths and weaknesses. Most importantly, when it came to returning to college to finally get my BA, even with a not-so-great cumulative GPA, it taught me how to work hard and focus. Now, college is not so hard. Still really hard, but not nearly as hard as it was when I was 18, with no purpose or direction or end in sight.

But really, real jobs, are hard. Way harder than college. However, they teach you so much about yourself and the world around you. In many ways, I am grateful for all of my screw ups, because it helped me find my passion. And, I ended up here in my hometown, at an excellent university, in a major that suits me perfectly. Sure, I haven’t experienced my major as a real job in the real world yet, but if it goes as well as my seventh year as a college student, everything will be just fine.