A Major Decision
Of all the things people told me I'd do my freshman year of college, the one thing I never believed was that I'd change my major. I knew people who changed their major five times between Tuesday and Saturday, people who were in the midst of having an existential crisis, and people who just had no clue which way was up, much less what major they were. I, on the other hand, was convinced that my life plan was set. I knew exactly what I wanted to do and I knew exactly how to get there.
Well...almost anyway. The first semester, I realized that even though I still wanted to get an Education degree, that maybe French and Francophone Studies wasn't for me and that I wanted to study History instead. I threw myself into my new major, taking classes with weekly papers, planning courses three or four semesters in advance, and convincing myself that nineteen credit hours for the rest of my undergraduate career was not only physically possible, but also sane and rational.
And then, after figuring my schedule out, buying all my books, and confidently reading the first couple of chapters for my brand new history classes this semester, I had an epiphany. As I sat in one of my classes on the very first day, my mind drifted. A bizarre train of thought, combined with not enough sleep, and a general malaise about the course material resulted in a moment of clarity in which I realized that things didn't have to be the way I'd planned. Just because I'd had the same life plan for the past couple of years didn't mean that I couldn't change what I wanted whenever I wanted, and I suddenly found that I wanted to. So I went home and promptly dropped all my history courses and picked up some Psych courses.
Psychology was, to be honest, kind of one of those obvious ideas that I didn't see until I ran right into it. I love my classes now; studying doesn't feel like work, I go on dorky little tangents to my friends about what I'm learning in class (which I'm sure they love), and I am genuinely excited about the courses that I'm looking at for next semester. I have a whole new idea of what I want to do with my life, but what's most liberating about it is that I'm not entirely sure. And I'm okay with that.
I never thought that I'd change my major. But here I am, after hemming and hawing for two and a half semesters, finally ready to declare my major in Psychology, something I had never considered studying before a month or so ago. I guess that the lesson that I learned is that it's okay to change your mind. Whether you change your major every five minutes or you never change it in five years, it's perfectly fine. You're not the same person from one moment to the next, and if you wake up one day and find that you want to be different, nothing's stopping you but yourself. And I've got to say, I think that's kind of awesome.