I started college almost two years later than everyone else.

I was home schooled, and I grew up with goals that included missionary work after high school. A few months after graduating, though, I started getting antsy, and I realized that it was because I really wanted to go to school.

The problem was, I had no idea what I wanted to do.

So, I googled the local community college and started looking at the programs they offered. I knew I was going to be behind everyone my age, so I desperately wanted to find the program that would take me the least amount of time.

That happened to be the medical assisting program.I was elated when I saw that it would only take me a year and a half. So it was decided, and I signed myself up for college starting Spring 2012 with a declared major of medical assisting.

I felt good about my decision to go to school, but something kept pulling me back to the community college's website. I would aimlessly scroll through their program offerings for hours. If anyone had any question about what was required for what program, I could answer it off the top of my head.

I didn't want to admit it at that time, but the problem was that I just couldn't see myself as a medical assistant. I really wanted to "get in and get out" when it came to college so that I could catch up with my peers, and that was the shortest program, but it just didn't feel right.

So, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, I switched my major to nursing right before classes started. I felt like all my problems were solved because, obviously, this was the perfect major for me.

As soon as classes started, though, I was hit with that same feeling that something still didn't feel right about my decision. And so began my bounce from major to major, completely unsure of what I wanted.

I went from nursing, to psychology to English. I had taken my first "real" English class that first semester, and I admired the professor and the way she taught the class so much that it made me want to teach English. I was always a reader and a writer, and after being in a classroom surrounded by other people for the first time, I realized just how amazing it is that 10 different people can find 10 different interpretations in the same piece.

In all my majors (and ideas for other majors), the only one that ever felt right and that gave me any sense of happiness was English. So I transferred to a bigger school where I could finish my English degree, but once I got there, I was completely overwhelmed by the size of it.

I didn't do well the one semester I spent there, and I felt completely defeated. I wanted to major in English, but I wasn't happy at the bigger school. Because of some other big things happening in my life that made me panic and feel like I had to go back to the "get in and get out" attitude, I decided to give up on English and to go back to community college to go through their Dental Hygiene program.

Unfortunately, (or so I thought at the time), the "big things" that were happening in my life that caused me to go back to community college in the first place also caused me to have to withdraw from classes two weeks before finals.

I was so frustrated because, for one, I had paid for those classes and not gotten credit for them, but mostly because I still felt like I had no idea what to do with my life. I was 22, and while most of the people my age were graduating college, I was still sitting there completely confused about my life and what I wanted from it.

So I decided to take a break. I took a semester off and really, truly thought about what I wanted to do. I started reading and writing again for fun, not for assignments. I fell back in love with literature (I wouldn't say I ever fell out of love with it in the first place, but I definitely distanced myself from it.) I realized that my attitude of "get in and get out" wasn't ever going to make me happy, and that the degree I wanted was in English.

But I wanted to do it in a smaller environment, so I applied to Columbia College. I was terrified that my botched semester would cause them to tell me to take a hike, and equally terrified of their private college tuition.

But they accepted me, in more ways than one, and I've never been happier.

I found an English major that specializes in writing (it's pretty much journalism, but we don't outright call it that for some reason). Writing is the one thing that I have always been comfortable with, and realizing that I could realistically make a career out of writing somehow made me feel like I had finally found something worth the years of schooling.

I hate this term, (and so would the professor in charge of my major because she hates cliches), but I blossomed as soon as I got to Columbia College. I was able to confidently walk into a classroom and participate without having panic attacks. The professors and staff in general are always kind and understanding. I even was able to write a novel for 3 hours of credit for my major this past semester.

It took years of frustration and mistakes, but I finally found the place I belong and a major I feel good about. I don't cringe when people ask me what my major is. I know I have a support system of friends and professors who want me to succeed.

And even though most people my age have already graduated, I wouldn't change a thing about where I am now. Because I'm fortunate enough to have found something that makes me happy, even if it took a few more years than everyone else.