Sometimes I Regret Going to University

 

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[Image: Part of a modern, open library. Bookshelves to the left. Computers and desks to the right. Floors, walls, and ceilings are all white]. Source: morguefile.com.

I understand that a post-secondary education is a privilege. I know that I have learned and grown through mine in ways I wouldn’t have otherwise. However, I don’t like the way university is pushed on young kids as the only real option for their futures. I don’t like that you’re allowed to get in all kinds of debt before you really understand what that means. I also just get into a funk about it sometimes, as I’ve done over four years already and am still trying to finish. This is a product of that.

I’m 23-years-old and I’m done with the whole academic thing.

I think we spend too much time in school. Sure, it’s important to get an education, but I’m not always sure that school gives you one. It… depends.

I’m 23-years-old and I’m done with being a student, thanks. I’ll take my degree, please.

Only, I can’t. After this round of courses, I’ll still have another semester to go.

Most people don’t finish their degrees in four years. Some, like myself, take four-and-a-half. Some take five. Some take more. Either way, it’s a long time, especially given the fact that most of us have been in school since the age of six.

If I’m being honest, I wish I’d gone to college. Two years, in and out. A practical diploma. Career prospects. Maybe it’s because I haven’t graduated yet and the impending monthly loan payments are scaring me.

Maybe it’ll all be fine. Maybe it’s good that I went to university. Right now, though, I kind of regret it. When all of this began, I was a pretty young thing who didn’t quite know what they were getting themselves into.

I took a year off. Maybe I should have taken more.

Too late now. This is what it is. This is my life and I have to live it. I have to deal with where I am now. Still finishing my degree. Still finishing it…

I used to be excited about school. It was a passion. When asked to describe myself, “student” was near the top of the list.

It’s different now. I’m different now. But I’m still living the life a much younger me wanted.

I saw my minimum monthly payment a couple weeks ago. After graduating, I’ll have six months to secure stability and start paying it. I cried. Hard.

I know it’s not impossible, that people do it, but at this point, it doesn’t seem manageable. At this point, I don’t have a job, an apartment, an income, a budget. At this point, I live with my mother and I write a lot of essays.

It will likely be fine. I’ll probably find ways to make it work. But I wish someone had told me, even once, that there were other reasonable options besides university, because no one did. I wish I had known. I don’t know if that would have changed my 18-year-old mind, but at least I would have been aware of what I was getting myself into.

Because really, I didn’t.

But here I am.

I suppose I may need a few years of perspective to really understand the true value of this degree. Maybe I’ll decide it was worth it. Maybe I won’t. We’ll see.

We’ll see.

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