My educational journey has taken me longer than most people that I know.

When I graduated from high school in 2012, Rowan University was not my first choice at all, even though I was accepted for the Biology program. In fact, I wanted to get as far away from home as possible. I wanted to re-invent myself. I saw myself hiking the mountains of southwestern Virginia, breezing through a Biology degree, on the path to medical school. But, like so many freshmen, I didn’t feel ready to move far away.

I thought that I was ready, but as soon as my parents dropped me off in that far away, new place, I couldn’t take it. I begged to come home.

It took me a few months to figure it out, but there was something bubbling underneath the surface. There was a reason I couldn’t bear to be left alone without getting teary-eyed and panicking: undiagnosed depression and anxiety.

Needless to say, I ended up at Rowan anyway, as if it was my fate. After my cold feet led me back to New Jersey, I started community college. I was scared and didn’t know what to expect; for a little while, I didn’t have a plan, other than getting out of New Jersey as fast as possible. But I really didn’t know what I wanted to study, where to move on to or what I could handle. Did I really want to rush back out into the unfamiliarity of a new state so far from home?

During my first year of college, I felt unprepared, with no real study skills or confidence that I could excel in a science curriculum. In high school I’d taken a few honors classes, but mostly college prep--an ironic title, since I barely felt prepared for community college. This led to frustration and an endless cycle of trying new subjects, changing my major, and then feeling defeated and lost when classes got harder. Some work, like computer science and criminal justice, was just not for me. I don’t have a mechanical mindset, and I’m not brave enough to sacrifice my own safety for those in need. I have the utmost respect for people in either profession.

Luckily, I soon found that a subject I’d grown to despise during high school actually had a ton of appeal to me--English. I began to take Creative Writing classes and Literature classes. My confidence soared; finally, something that was working out! But what could I do with an English degree?

My most logical decision was to pursue teaching. After all, kids are cute and English is one of the most important subjects they’ll ever take. I tried field experience in all different grade levels and took Writing Arts classes for a dual major. Writing stuck, and I was in love. My favorite way to obtain and synthesize new information is from reading books, so this should’ve been an obvious choice from the get-go.

Field experience and part-time jobs with younger children had one major draw to me: it was fun. Who wanted to sit at a desk talking to adults all day? Not me. It seemed like the perfect fit. But, every time my field experience or jobs ended, I got the same feeling: this isn’t right. This isn’t what I want to spend the rest of my life doing.

It worried me that I was putting so much time, effort, and money into something that I was completely unsure about. How would I be as a teacher? How would the kids see me? Was this really something that I wanted to work hard for?

All of the teachers that I’ve met are the most intelligent, creative, and compassionate people. They’re extremely dedicated to their jobs and will do anything that it takes for their students to succeed. It’s one of the most thankless and underappreciated professions out there.

But it’s not who I want to be.

I know, I know didn’t I (just) post about how one of my main reasons for maintaining my sobriety is to be a teacher?

This decision isn’t easy, and most people will think I’m crazy for choosing a different path this far along. But in my heart, I feel like America’s future students deserve more than an adult who is unsure of herself. They deserve professionals who are relentless.

Do I know exactly where my life is going to take me? No, nobody does. But the one thing that I’m sure of is that I have the greatest potential to make a difference in the world, some way or another. Maybe when I figure that out, I’ll let you guys know.

For now, I may seem lost, but I’m exactly where I need to be.