Lost and Content

Two years ago, I turned 25 and entered the early stages of a quarter-life crisis.

I spent life after college trying to figure out how to adult. I freelanced for a while when I lived with my parents… which is a totally doable salary when you’re not paying for rent or groceries. My dad also made sure my car was always full of gas. Run out of gas on the highway one time and I guess that scars a father for life.

When I moved to California, I got my first big girl job. I worked 9-5 and felt I was truly killing it at adulting. I listened to podcasts, started drinking afternoon coffee to get through the day, and lived for the weekend. I worked in marketing for a while, then found a communications role at a graduate university (which I still do part-time). I got to interview people, write stories, and dabble in video. I thought this was it. This is what I’ve been looking for – writing, creativity, and the stability of a steady schedule and salary.

I loved it. I got to meet people and learn about new technology and advances in therapy. Being on campus with wide-eyed students created an atmosphere of hope and excitement.

Then… I got lost again. I found myself thinking about what I really do every day from 9-5, 40 hours a week. After several bouts of anxiety and long talks with Maverick (my dog), I asked myself what makes my time feel meaningful and well spent. My answer: coaching seven-year-olds.

In the evenings, I coached springboard diving for kids ages 5 to 12. I was the lessons coach, so kids that never jumped off a diving board before would be with me to learn the basics. I absolutely loved this job. There was never a dull moment – some nights were full of new skills and giggles, while others ended in tantrums on the pool deck. I shared stories about “my kids” with anyone who would listen. It also melted my heart at how excited the kids were to see me. It felt like a gift to be able to be a small part of their days.

Cue the scary panic attack that ensued when I realized I needed to make a career change barely five years into the first "career" I started. A full-time diving coach wasn't realistic, so I started searching for careers where I could work with kids. After lots of research, soul-searching, several tears, and talking to people in the field, I figured out my next move -- occupational therapy.

From what I've learned so far, I define occupational therapy (OT) as a profession that helps people of all ages and diagnoses participate in the things that they want and need to do. Things that bring meaning to their lives. Occupational therapy uses everyday activities to achieve goals that are tailored to each person’s unique diagnosis, situation and priorities. I think everyone in the profession defines it a little bit differently, which contributes to the beauty of it. From a school-aged child learning to socialize or self-regulate to a grandfather recovering from a stroke, you can find OT working in a wide variety of settings and with people of all ages.

I figured out what I had to do to apply for programs. Then I had to share the news with my friends and family. Let me tell you, I was terrified. I think part of it was because everyone knows me as "the writer." It felt like I was letting people down because I wasn't making a career out of writing. I did get that question, too - "are you still going to write?" Well, duh. That's why I pay a subscription to keep this site every year even though I only post like twice. WORTH IT. My friends and family gave me nothing but love and support. They never asked, "are you sure?" They only asked, "so, what happens next?"

It's scary to admit that you didn't get things right the first time around and go through with making a change. Luckily, I'm surrounded by people whose hearts match mine. Hearts that don't judge. Hearts that listen and love until I find my way.

I'm one year into the Occupational Therapy Assistant program at the Community College of Allegheny County. Early in my OT classes, I learned about the importance of a "growth mindset." A fixed mindset views our intelligence, creativity, character, etc. as static and pre-established. A growth mindset is believing that those things are fluid, changing, and improving.

Truly believing in constant growth is hard, allowing that growth to take place is even harder. I hope my little journal entry here helps someone out there give themself some grace. It's OK to change your mind. It's how we grow.