Ironically, going to business school has purified me from a good amount of worldly ambition, the idea that love will fix everything, and of course, living for an uncertainty future.
I thought it might be quite painful- I never really thought I would like business. I don’t necessarily now. I liked Harvard Business Review and Clayton Christensen, and I wanted to know what it took for ideas to become real.
I was afraid my classmates would be competitive and would scoff at my youth and inexperience. They don’t thankfully.
I thought if I was going to get a master’s degree, might as well get the most bang for your buck, so just get an MBA.
I saw an ad on facebook when I’d given up on business school for the moment, and it said this program would take me around the world and give me a degree in France.
I thought it would cure my wanderlust.
I thought it would help me find my place in the world.
I thought I’d be ready to be a somewhat prosperous adult.
I thought I’d have everything figured out, a nice straight line.
I thought I’d just go back and live the life I planned.
I thought my ambition would propel me forward and above the curve.
I thought I’d love to learn and it would be simple to be in school, again.
Well, the opposite happened.
I’m not the same person.
The more of the world I saw, the more I think I want to see.
I fell in love.
I met someone.
He didn’t solve all my problems, but he kept me warm and held me sometimes.
I miss him.
I miss Paris.
I could have stayed, but it wasn’t strategic.
I could have stayed, but it would have been expensive.
I could have stayed, but India was waiting. And so many new worlds to maybe love.
I could have stayed, but I wanted an American degree so I could go “home” someday, easily.
I could have stayed, and there were no guarantees I wouldn’t regret it.
So propelled by wanderlust, youthful antsyness, “practicality,” and uncertainty, I left.
The story says I’ve been miserable ever since, but that’s not entirely true.
I’ve had moments of happiness.
I’ve lost a lot of energy.
I’ve gained some weight.
I realized that the corner office isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I realized that your worth is not determined by your job.
I realized that talent and success aren’t quite one and the same.
I realized I am too damn lazy or smart for the rat race.
I realized I was running around a hamster wheel my whole life.
I realized putting my brain to work for something I don’t love is almost like being a prostitute, just a use-use situation, but that’s the way most jobs are.
I realized I missed being a teacher, a lot.
I realized I don’t really care that much whether my boyfriend and eventual husband is Catholic, or even Christian, or not. Or rather, that it all depends, and difference is not a deal breaker.
I learned I don’t have an identity based around my job, my demographic information, my political beliefs, or even my faith.
I realized it’s not worth cutting parts of yourself off so you can fit in a box.
I realized I am young and impatient.
I realized I don’t want to grow up, or get old.
I realized I am free.
But I’m still here, in business school.
Keeping on keeping on. Hangin in there. Finishing the race, and trying to run my own race.
I dont’ really know what I want, but that I don’t belong to here.
I’m just a human
On a giant speck of dust
A hoo down in Hoovile
To Jesus, to God.
I’m just living, and dying.
I’m making choices,
I’m a little tired right now.
I’m grateful, and extremely blessed.
I realized a bit about what life’s about.
I’m only going to live once.
I may not be “great,”
But I can be brave, be bold.
Maybe I can’t always be wise,
But I can be true.
My head might have lead me astray,
But I still have my heart.
It’s singing to me now,
And I’ve taken the cotton out of my eyes,
ripped the shackles from my ankles,
torn the veils,
Now I’m in the middle,
Finding my way to another shore,
But the goal
so stubbornly sharp, not hazy.
Letting go, and letting God.
Just giving in,
To the beat of my heart,
Letting this be my real life.