I graduated! Now what?

Graduation day. It was like getting dumped.  I’ve spent 17 of my last 21 years in a complicated relationship with academia, I, loving it wholeheartedly while school was entirely indifferent to my highs and lows.  It was a bizarre case of unrequited love that came to a screeching halt on graduation day.  I anticipated the breakup however, and frantically sought advice for months prior trying to learn how to cope with the impending split. 

I came across two vastly different types of solicited advice before the big day.  One set of people fervently urging me to get a post-grad plan in motion. “Chop chop! Your love affair with school is up and it’s time for the real world! And with the economy and job market the way they are today…”

These people scare(d) me.  On one hand, they’re totally correct and besides, what better way to get over a breakup than to get immersed in a new project and become entirely devoted to work? We all flounder around in college for four years (or five when you attend LB State) with the intent of securing a degree and landing a job at the end of it all.  It’s just the course of action we are expected to take and I accepted that.  I lined up interviews at corporations I didn’t want to work for doing jobs I didn’t want to do in order to fulfill the norm.

But then there was the onslaught of advice from people who hailed from an entirely different school of thought.  These people shared their horror stories of post grad life, their regrets of quickly rushing into another relationship with a little someone named nine to five, and the things they wish they would have taken the time to do after moving their tassel to the other side of their mortarboard. The option to continue to flounder for a bit longer seemed just as frightening as the decision to commit to a corporate gig.

So here I am, at one of the greatest crossroads I have yet to face and to put it simply and completely unscholarly, I am freaking out! 

Perhaps this is just me in the throes of youthful disillusionment, something every twenty-something is bound to face, or maybe this just a case of Stacey being overdramatic.  Either way you spin it, there’s (hopefully) other grads out there clinging to a box of tissues while watching The Notebook, wallowing over the end of their academic relationship, and torn over what to do next.

I’ve realized the decision will be different for each of us, with no correct or obvious answer.  For me, I’ve decided to learn a little bit about myself before jumping into my next relationship. So for now, it’s not you Corporate America, it’s me.  The decision is scary, the risk is high, but for now, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.