Lost in Transition

I feel like my dreams have been shattered. Like I have no purpose anymore. The thing I wanted to do so badly—to be a school counselor—has been put on hold. Maybe it’s over for now.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is just how quickly life can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out—set your goals, make your plans, and convince yourself you know exactly where you’re headed—only to watch everything change in an instant, leaving you back at square one, questioning everything. That’s where I am now, trying to piece it all together. I thought I had my future mapped out, especially when I started grad school. My goal was clear and simple: graduate and be a school counselor by 30. That was the dream, the vision I worked toward every single day.

I still remember my last year of grad school like it was yesterday. Thanks to an internship at the school that hired me, I was already working in the field. It felt like everything was falling into place. I couldn’t believe my luck when I landed a paid internship—something that completely changed my perspective. I had been terrified of quitting my paying job to take an unpaid internship, even though we had planned for that moment financially. 

When I landed my full-time job at that school, I thought I’d made it. I was certain I’d found my “forever” job—the place where I would spend the rest of my career, where I’d retire from. I couldn’t imagine ever needing to write another resume or go through a nerve-wracking interview again. Leaving that school, walking away from that career, wasn’t even something I could fathom. I truly believed I would spend my whole life there.

But here I am now, uncertain of everything. I’m not sure if I’m done with school counseling for good or just taking a break. And that uncertainty weighs on me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve wasted so much time. My student loan debt from the degree that was supposed to secure my future still looms over me, and now I wonder if all that effort was for nothing. People try to comfort me by saying that no degree is a waste, that no one can take it away from me, but that doesn’t feel much like reassurance when I feel like I’m walking away from the career I worked so hard to build.

What’s even harder is the feeling that I’ve let down the people who believed in me. The school that took me on as an intern, the mentors who saw potential in me—it’s hard not to feel like I’ve wasted their time and efforts. Those three and a half years of hard work and dedication, all that sacrifice, seems like it might have been for nothing. It’s a crushing feeling, and I don’t know what comes next.

But maybe, just maybe, life isn’t supposed to make sense right now. Maybe it’s okay not to have everything figured out. Even though the doubt, regret, and worry persist, I’m trying to trust that the path I’m on will make sense in time—even if it doesn’t look like what I envisioned. Life has a way of surprising you, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. I have to believe that this is just one of those moments, and that someday, I’ll look back and realize that none of this was in vain.

For now, I have to keep moving forward, one step at a time, and trust that the pieces will eventually fall into place—even if they fall in a way I never expected.