I had this post started about fears and whatnot, but the Internet overpowered WordPress and it’s ability to “automatically save a draft” so I’ll “never loose anything”
… I digress.
Fear. It manifests in silly ways doesn’t it? Crying. Screaming. Clutching someone’s arm so tightly they yelp – not reach for their smartphone and begin furiously typing www.yelp.com, but literally yelp in pain and surprise. Sometimes we even pee ourselves in fear.
No, I did not pee myself I was so petrified of something that happened over the last few weeks.
Though, I haven’t been myself. At all. And fear is the root of it.
I’m at a turning point. With applications due over the next four weeks, in the next 4-6 weeks I will know whether or not the dreams I’ve had of obtaining my Masters degree will begin in the Fall, or if sobbing into my pillow every night in fear of not getting that dream fufilled will have been valid.
All I can do is write essays at this point. Write essays and beg that someone sees my potential, my passion, and look beyond the flaws, the disruptions and all the negatives and see the drive I have.
The fear is that they won’t.
And what then? What’s the Plan B? Settle down with a great guy and finally get married, pop out children and just…let that be enough?
Let Plan B be enough.
At almost 28, that should sound good. That should make my heart flutter, my maternal clock play at full blast, and I should be happy with that choice.
The fear is knowing it won’t. It’s knowing that the first rejection letter is going to make me cry harder than the first time I got dumped. The fear is not knowing how many of those rejection letters I’ll get; if it’ll be one or all eight.
I’ve wanted a Master’s since I knew what they were. And when I figured out what I was meant to do, it just… made sense.
And so I’m left with this gut wrenching fear that all eight will say no.
Who am I, if not a student?
Where do I go from here?
Fear of the unknown