Pressing Pause
On Sunday afternoon, January 1st 2017, I decided to put aside my applications to grad school.
As someone who has only ever played it safe, I was — and still am — slightly stunned by my choice. I’d made spreadsheets of potential grad programs since first year. I’m comforted by absolute control; right now, nothing feels more terrifying than launching into what seems like an unknown abyss.
And yet, I’m confident that this is the only choice I won’t regret. Despite the planning, the research, and the frenzied drafting of personal statements, I don’t feel mentally prepared to embark on another degree in September — and am even less ready to pick which program is best.
For so many of us, school is all we’ve ever known, and I wasn’t quite sure how to look beyond that. It was only when I finished my last essay of the semester and went on break, when I could pause and take a breath, that I was able to appreciate the extent of my options and the depth of my uncertainty. University often feels like a race, and it is so easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of work and the pattern of school — but half the time, I had little clue of what I was racing towards. Just as this holiday season made me realize what I was and wasn’t ready for, I hope that next year will give me enough distance to carefully consider what I want.
In making this decision, I’ve also recognized how truly fortunate I am to live in Toronto, a city with no shortage of volunteering opportunities and part-time jobs. I am even more fortunate to hold Canadian citizenship — a privilege only afforded through my parents’ sacrifices — that enables me to take my time deciding, removed from the pressure of paying rent or buying food. In many moments, I still hate myself for being such a stereotype of failure and privilege — a 22 year old writer living in her parents’ basement, working on a novel while trying to find her path; I haven’t felt this vulnerable for years. But I have no desire to repeat the crippling experience of my first undergrad year, and hopefully, this gap will allow for an easier transition and a stronger return.
In the moments when my anxiety retreats, it has actually been super exciting to start considering what I’d like to do with my time — for the first year in my life, it’s entirely my time — and to finally bring all my “someday” projects into the light. I’m really looking forward to what 22 brings.