Finding My Own Path: Breaking Free from Expectations

I used to think life was a roadmap, a step-by-step journey through milestones like school, career, and maybe a family. Growing up, my parents always emphasized hard work, success, and the importance of a "secure" career. My father worked in finance, and my mother, a lawyer, often joked about the unpredictability of her career choice, warning me that stability was key. So, from a young age, I was groomed for a stable, respectable profession. I didn’t question it—I assumed that’s what success looked like.

By the time I reached high school, I’d become an academic perfectionist, always striving for the best grades and juggling extracurriculars. Everyone was proud of me, but deep down, I felt a quiet unease, a sense that something was off. At the time, I couldn’t put my finger on it. All I knew was that I was moving forward, ticking off achievements, without ever stopping to ask myself what I wanted. It was like I was following a script without even knowing what the story was about.

The Start of Self-Doubt
It was in my first year of college, where I majored in finance, that I began to feel the weight of doubt. Classes were intense, and my mind drifted during lectures. While some of my friends were passionate about the financial world, I found it all… gray. I felt like I was sinking into monotony. The formulas, numbers, and case studies seemed to blend into one big blur, and I dreaded attending class. But I convinced myself that discomfort was part of the process. After all, no one really enjoyed their studies, right?

Then one day, a guest lecturer visited. He was a young entrepreneur, bright-eyed, charismatic, and unapologetically enthusiastic. He shared his story of dropping out to pursue his passion for sustainable design, emphasizing how he’d taken risks and found purpose along the way. Listening to him, I felt an unexpected rush of envy, mixed with awe. Here was someone who had defied convention, embraced uncertainty, and carved his own path. It was both inspiring and deeply unsettling, because it forced me to confront a truth I had long buried—I didn’t feel connected to the path I was on.

A New Perspective: Learning to Question
After that lecture, I started to ask myself difficult questions. What was I truly interested in? If I stripped away the expectations, what would be left? These questions scared me because I didn’t know the answers. Growing up, I’d never taken the time to explore my interests. I realized I was a stranger to myself, living a life dictated by expectations, without any true sense of purpose.

To experiment, I decided to take a creative writing elective. It felt completely out of my comfort zone, but something about the idea thrilled me. In class, we were asked to write about a memory that made us feel something—anything. I found myself revisiting the times when I felt truly alive: family gatherings, nature hikes, and conversations with friends. For the first time, I was doing something purely for myself. My first short story was awkward, filled with clichés and rookie mistakes, but the sense of fulfillment I felt was unparalleled.

Writing became my escape. I started to journal regularly, capturing the highs and lows, and exploring feelings I’d never expressed. Slowly, I began to find clarity in my tangled thoughts. Writing helped me see patterns in my behavior, and I started recognizing how much I had allowed external validation to define me. I had spent so much time trying to be "good enough" in others’ eyes that I’d forgotten to ask myself what I wanted.

The First Big Step: Following My Gut
At this point, I knew I needed to take my exploration seriously, but I was terrified. My friends and family had always known me as the "stable one," the one with a plan, and the idea of deviating from that felt risky. But as I spent more time writing, I found myself growing stronger, braver, and more willing to confront the uncomfortable. I began exploring different forms of writing—poetry, essays, short stories—each medium revealing new facets of my thoughts and dreams.

After a few months of self-exploration, I made the decision to change my major. I still remember the anxiety that consumed me the night before I told my parents. They had invested so much in my education, financially and emotionally, and I knew this decision would be a shock. The conversation was tough, with moments of silence and disappointment. They worried about my future and voiced concerns about financial stability, which were valid. But ultimately, they respected my decision.

Switching majors felt like a weight lifting off my shoulders. I began studying literature and creative writing, and for the first time in my life, I felt connected to my work. Every story I read, every essay I wrote, felt like pieces of myself coming together. It was like I’d discovered an entirely new world, one filled with endless possibilities for self-expression.

Embracing Uncertainty
Even with this newfound sense of purpose, the journey was far from easy. Writing isn’t a "stable" career, and the fears of uncertainty often crept in. I took on part-time jobs and internships to make ends meet, but the financial strain was real. There were days when I questioned my choice, wondering if I’d made a mistake by veering off the traditional path. But each time, I returned to writing, reminding myself of the fulfillment it brought me.

A few months after graduating, I landed my first freelance writing gig. The pay was modest, but the sense of accomplishment was huge. Seeing my work published, knowing that someone had valued my words enough to pay for them, felt surreal. This small victory gave me the courage to keep going. I began pitching articles, joining writer’s workshops, and networking with other creatives. Slowly, I built a portfolio, piece by piece, and the sense of independence and self-assurance I gained was invaluable.

Growth Beyond Career
As I continued down this new path, I realized that the changes within me went beyond just career. My journey of self-discovery taught me to question more than just my professional choices. I became more mindful of the friendships I maintained, prioritizing those that encouraged growth and authenticity. I became more comfortable with failure, learning to see it as a stepping stone rather than a setback. I even started engaging in activities that once intimidated me, like public speaking, knowing that my worth wasn’t defined by any one performance.

The decision to follow my own path also brought me closer to my family. Initially, they struggled to understand my choice, but as they saw my happiness and growth, they came around. I learned that being true to myself allowed me to connect with them in a more genuine way, bridging gaps that had once felt insurmountable. I had been so afraid of disappointing them that I hadn’t realized how much they just wanted to see me happy and fulfilled.

Reflecting on the Journey
Looking back, I’m grateful for the doubts and fears that pushed me to reevaluate my path. I learned that fulfillment isn’t found in external markers of success, but in living a life that resonates with who you are at your core. My journey isn’t perfect; I still face uncertainties, and the path ahead is far from clear. But I’ve learned that I’m strong enough to handle whatever comes my way. Embracing my passions, letting go of societal expectations, and finding joy in the journey has given me a sense of purpose I’d once believed was out of reach.

Today, I continue to write, to explore, and to push myself in ways I never imagined. My journey is ongoing, a blend of growth, discovery, and change. And each day, I’m learning to trust myself a little more, knowing that I have the resilience to pursue the life I truly want.

If there’s one takeaway from my story, it’s this: Life isn’t a roadmap. It’s a journey shaped by the choices we make, the courage we find, and the passions we nurture. Success isn’t about ticking boxes or meeting expectations—it’s about creating a life that aligns with who we are, no matter how unconventional that may be. Embrace your doubts, follow your passions, and remember that the journey itself is as meaningful as any destination.