I, being an idea driven person, am always in my head. I think and think and think about things and often times it stops me from making them happen.
I have been feeling a wealth of emotions over that last few weeks, longing for my second home in Colorado, wanting to stay in Cleveland to see explore every inch of it, having the urge to runaway somewhere new and just stay there. All these feelings contradict each other and it feels like my brain is pulling in 10 different directions.
This summer, I have been doing a lot of reflection. Thinking about the future, the present, my current path in life, where I want it to go, etc. And I find that my desires, what I want to do with myself and what I want my legacy to be are going in divergent paths. The humanitarian in me and the artist in me are having a tug-of-war with my brain on what it is I should devote my life to.
On one hand, I absolutely adore fashion. If I could submerge myself in it 24/7 I would. I love that fashion can be grand, luxurious, and indulgent and be gritty, edgy, and down right dirty all at the same time. The culture, the cult of clothing is like the witch with the shiny red apple, only this time, I know it will inject it’s poison into every inch of me, and I still want it.
If I went into fashion, I know I would turn into “that girl” the one that lives and dies for the shoes in her closet, and can’t imagine leaving the house in anything that doesn’t have a print, a sparkle, or a pleat. I would give myself over to a world of shallow self obsessed poseurs who’s only goal is to be seen being seen. Oddly enough, I’m completely ok with that.
But, do I want my legacy to be that I helped the fashion challenged not to buy ugly clothes, or something more substantial? Enter applied social sciences.
I want to help people, I want to make my community an amazing place for everyone, even the people who can’t afford it, and unfortunately I can’t do that by preaching the evils of Croc’s. I don’t think that it needs much explanation, the humanitarian in me wants to help human kind. It’s not glamorous, no shwanky parties involved, I won’t make a lot of money, and I won’t be surrounded by the young and fabulous.
It will make me feel better about myself to choose the latter option, to keep my self-righteous attitude about elitism and equity. But what happens when all you really wanna do is sell your soul?