I’m 25 years old, three years out of college, doing interim jobs in order to… not exactly survive, but just to do something with myself. I haven’t been happy in a long time.
I’m so lucky in the fact that C has a federal job, and even more lucky in the fact that he doesn’t mind supporting my bum self while I figure things out.
I graduated college with a Communication degree. In high school, I was very involved with graphic design. I didn’t think I was great at it, but other people did. I became a yearbook layout editor, I entered competitions (and won some), I made graduation programs, I even made invitations for a lot of my graduating friends.
My Filipino self refused to go to an art school. I thought a Communication degree was a nice medium.
I declared my Advertising concentration my Sophomore year of college, after joining the Advertising club and meeting a Senior on his way to Chicago Portfolio School. I learned about Art Direction and Copywriting, fell in love with “Creatives,” and believed I could succeed.
At first, I thought I’d be an Art Director. With my graphic design past, it only made sense. I never admitted it to anyone, but after a while, I wasn’t confident with my skills anymore. They were basic compared to others. I still earned a graphic design certificate, but I worked towards an English minor too. I started to write more. I started to appreciate the words in commercials more than the visuals, and decided that I would work towards becoming a Copywriter. I fought our department Dean for the Advanced Copywriting class to be offered so I could get as much as I could out of my liberal-arts college. I was going to be a Creative, no matter what.
I graduated college and spent a year in Hawai’i working, saving up to move out again with my husband. I found a Portfolio School in San Diego, fell in love, and saved up enough to enroll.
The year ended and we moved. I worked a crappy job at the zoo to make money. I contacted the portfolio school. I interviewed with the head of the studio. I made plans to start becoming what I wanted.
And then, I did.
I went to portfolio school to work towards becoming a Copywriter.
I did what I worked for. I did what I said I was going to do.
I. Did. It.
But, after almost a year taking classes, I realized I didn’t belong there.
I had the motivation. I had the ambition. I did work every single day, I stayed up for hours, I did everything they say a Copywriter should do in order to maximize idea potential.
The truth was, I inherently was not a “Creative.”
I love graphic design, I love writing, but I love order within it. I’m creative with parameters. My copywriting peers were witty on the spot, came up with these crazy ideas with a single word. I needed time to think. I needed examples. I needed rules, otherwise I didn’t know what I was doing.
One of my copywriting instructors praised me on being able to write formulaic lines, but it meant I couldn’t stray from one idea to another. The school’s founder sat me down and told me I needed to start thinking faster, because how I was doing now wouldn’t cut it in the industry.
I started to freak out. This was what I had wanted. This was my path for the past five years, and all of a sudden… it wasn’t me. I stopped taking classes. I said my goodbyes to the department heads and said, “I’m hoping to be back soon,” even though I knew it was the end.
Since then, I’ve been in a rut.
Now… I don’t know who I am. I don’t really know what I want anymore.
We’ve been in San Diego for almost three years now, and day after day I don’t know what I’m doing here. I came to the mainland for better career opportunities, but now, I don’t even know what career I should be headed towards.
To be honest, I’m still searching. I’m still trying to find something about myself that works and can be translated to a career. I’m also trying to find what works in terms of happiness. Is a career everything to me? Or do I just need more money to survive?
I don’t know. As of now, I am in the ruttiest of ruts, but trust that I’m trying to climb out of it.
Starting a family has been on my mind quite a lot lately.
I’m 25, been married for three years, and I’m always wondering if I should’ve been having kids already.
I still feel too young. I still feel like I’m not ready. When I say this to people who ask, they say “You’ll never feel ready, the best thing to do is just let it happen.”
I like having plans. I like sticking to my plans. Getting married after college wasn’t a plan I thought I was going to follow, but it was a possibility, so I made a plan for that. C getting out of the Marines after his first enlistment wasn’t in the plans, but moving from Hawaii was, and we followed that regardless.
My current situation wasn’t in my personal plans, but it’s working out the way I expected it would be. I know how to adapt and overcome, and make new plans, and I feel calm and safe knowing that it’s going the way I thought it would.
Babies have always been a ways away. I always told myself I wouldn’t even start trying until after C and I have our big wedding, and after three years, I am proud of myself for sticking to it. My plan was to start in two years. I could wait that much longer, easy.
Thing is, I have this weird thing where I don’t get my period. It’s been happening since I was in high school. I would only get my period when I took birth control, but when I’m off it, it never comes on its own. This has got me seriously concerned about my fertility and whether or not I will be able to bear healthy children when the time comes. (I’ve recently started seeing a doctor about it and haven’t seen an OB-GYN yet, but I will soon).
At 25, I worry that now may be the time to start trying. Whenever my mom sees me, or when I call, she asks if I’m pregnant yet. My aunties all tell me they can’t wait for me to start having kids. My dad even had a talk with me about starting now, because it’s harder when I get older… but inside, I don’t feel even the least bit ready.
I can’t even take care of myself and I give up trying to take care of C sometimes. I don’t even have a full-time job right now. I have some big plans career wise that need to start by next year, and they can’t be done while pregnant. I still want to travel. We still rent.
We haven’t even had our big wedding, which shouldn’t be important, but it’s important to me. If we’re struggling to save up for that, a kid is forever, and who knows if we’re financially stable enough to give them the lifestyle they deserve?
When I have a child, I want my parents to be able to help me, and it’s hard with me in San Diego and them in Hawaii. This is what worries me. I want them to grow up with cousins and family constantly around like I did, but with our choice in moving, it’s almost impossible. I want these things figured out before I even start trying.
And then… I don’t want to get my hopes up because with the way my menstrual cycle is, I may be stuck with the worst case scenario.
Maybe I should start trying now and see where it goes. It crosses my mind a lot. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?
The funny thing is that I literally have 10 drafts of posts that I just never finished in the last two months. I figure it’s time to come back and update myself on where I’m at.
It’s the middle of August, and the last time I wrote was in June. The past two months I’ve been hanging out with high school friends here for the summer, doing extra hours on my interim job (enough to pay my share of the bills AND put money into savings, hooray! Doesn’t beat a real career though…), and planning the rest of the year.
We moved into a new apartment yesterday after our current place decided to hike the rent up $200. Renting sucks. I can’t wait for the day C and I are financially stable, at a good point in our lives, and ready to buy a house. We’re still debating on where, though.
San Diego is everything — one six-hour flight to Hawaii, Las Vegas only a five-hour drive away for holidays, mild winters, easy summers, and DISNEYLAND ANNUAL PASSES. What more could I ask for? Well, affordable housing. That’s what I’d ask for. The market isn’t as unrealistic as Hawaii is, but it’s still not a trade-off.
Las Vegas is our second choice. Beautiful mini mansions for the price of a studio apartment, enough family to fill up a backyard for a birthday party, cheap cheap CHEAP, and only a three-hour drive to Disneyland. The downside? Weather. Dry heat. Hot wind that hurts your face in 110 degrees. I don’t know if i could live with that.
Hawaii is always in the back of my mind, but unless we win the lottery and somehow they evict half of the population, I don’t think we’ll ever move back. Yearly trips, of course, but not to settle down.
Anyway, aside from that, we planned a trip to Colorado for the end of the month and I’m so pumped. I’m almost certain we’re going to fall in love with the state and we’re going to want to move there as soon as possible. We’re spending three days in Colorado Springs (C’s brother is stationed around there) and then three days in Denver. Rocky Mountain National Park? OF COURSE!
After Colorado, some friends are coming to visit in October, and then in November we’re back in Hawaii for my cousin’s wedding. We’re trying to squeeze in a trip to Lake Tahoe before the year starts, and that’s when things are going to get interesting.
But, I’ll save that for when I’m ready to talk about it.
Hopefully it won’t be another two months before I write again.