Growing up with six siblings was like getting on a roller coaster without knowing when it would stop — in a good way.
My brothers and sisters did nothing if not keep me on my toes, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I love being around them, laughing, joking and playing endless rounds of “I remember when.”
When the time came, I was more than ready to go to college and secure the independence I was so desperately seeking. That being said, I still missed them dearly, and it always warms my heart to know they looked forward to my visits.
Toward the end of last semester, though, I decided to stay on campus for the summer. I knew if I went home without a plan I’d end up hopelessly broke or slumming it at the Wendy’s in my hometown for the third year in a row.
So, in March, I set off searching for an internship, trying and failing to secure a position in publishing — my dream career field — but I was determined to make something work. In a last-ditch effort, I applied for an on-campus job that came with free summer housing. It provided less than ideal pay and only 28 hours a week, but it was better than nothing.
I was quickly offered the position, but when I got the email, I hesitated. How would my loved ones react?
I grew increasingly anxious, paralyzed by the fear that my siblings would feel betrayed by my choice, or saddened that I didn’t choose to be with them. Even worse, my never-ending case of FOMO reared its ugly head, and I worried I’d miss out on all of the newly-21-year-old fun I could have with my friends.
When it came down to it, I was afraid of being perceived as absent from my community. How would my little sisters feel when I missed another band recital or musical performance? How would they feel if my shoulder wasn’t there for them to cry on?
Guilt nagged me for days, convincing me that I was being selfish and inconsiderate.
I don’t quite remember when I realized what I knew all along, but it soon washed over me. I didn’t want to spend another summer smelling like fry grease and — with no license, don’t judge me — nearly always confined to the apartment. Staying in Peoria was best for me, and that didn’t make me a terrible or negligent person.
Of course, I still made the effort to check in on and be there for everyone, including answering late-night phone calls and watching an entire middle-school production of “Frozen” over FaceTime.
It’s not unreasonable to care about how your actions affect people, but it’s unfair to limit yourself in an attempt to please everyone. At the end of the day, no one has to live with your choices except you.
Communicate with your loved ones, but you don’t owe anyone an explanation for how you decide to pursue happiness. You know what’s best for you. How you choose to show up for others depends on many factors, but don’t be afraid to put yourself first.
