I don't think I'll ever quite get used to the response I evoke whenever I tell someone I've made the *grave* mistake of becoming a Theatre major. It's met with an inorganic smile, the tilt of a head, and furrowed eyebrows that scream "I pity you," as if I didn't make the decision on my own.

Because of this, I usually feel the need to compensate and conveniently remember and inform them that I have yet another major, and taking this on after the fact seems to put them a bit more at ease. They nodded; they mean, "Thank God, poor girl needs to eat." But by clarifying with the fact that the other half of my Panera Pick-Two of college is English, we're usually back to square one.

In fact, with the overwhelming pursuit of STEM subjects in post-secondary education, it seems as though following the path of anything related to a career in the humanities is too much of a risk to not be justified by something a bit more technical. And specifically to my case, something traditionally more academic.

But I still can't help but shy away from sharing the passions I've nurtured enough to practice for my remaining years of undergraduates studies, and quite frankly, the rest of my life.

This is not to say I'm disregarding any of the risks associated with finishing this educational plan and sauntering out of Rupp Arena, my pretty little diploma tucked neatly under my arm. It's absolutely terrifying. But even those that I know to have more of a structured, well-traveled career path after graduation are just as scared out of their minds as I am. It doesn't better my situation in any way, but there's just something reassuring about that common risk of chasing whatever happiness and success looks like for each of us years from now.

With that, I don't think backup plans exist.

Rather, I don't think they should.

One of my youngest and wisest acting professors makes a point every semester to sit her classes down (criss-cross-applesauce like the children we are) and reiterate the importance of "and."

Actor and director.

Actor and writer.

Actor and lawyer.

Actor and parent.

[Your prospective career here] and whatever else role in this world that fulfills you in the only way such a perfect combination can.

Not only is it employable to be knowledgeable and skillful in an array of fields, but personally, I don't see myself being as good in one without the other. Just because you do more than one thing doesn't mean you've failed to begin with. It's a vital part of existing, and there's no reason nor need to explain it to anyone else if you know why you're a part of it in the first place. To put it simply, though actor and writer is that perfect pairing for me, I certainly didn't add the latter in order to prove my humility and common sense. I just can't see myself doing anything else with my life.

So please, stop apologizing for chasing down what gives you those wonderful, nerve-wracking, split second, "God, why did I ever think this was a good idea?" sort of butterflies in your stomach. You'd be even crazier to be doing anything else.