As depressing as it is and as cliche as it may sound, success in modern society is most commonly defined by which of us ends up having the most money, biggest house and nicest car. I have grappled with the concept of success throughout my entire life because, although it is hard to word it in a way that doesn’t come across as extremely conceited, I have been judged to be of above average intelligence from a very young age and it has been drilled into me that I shouldn’t “waste” the talent I supposedly have. As a recent University graduate considering my next move in life, I find myself asking what exactly people mean when they say I shouldn’t “waste” it. What then, I ask, does it mean to be successful?
Up until now my life seems to have been mapped out for me by the powers that be; make sure you do well in your GCSEs to get into Sixth Form, make sure you get good A Levels to get into a decent University (the jury is still out as to whether Hull qualifies as decent), make sure you get at least a 2.1 so you can get onto some sort of graduate scheme that will probably be in London. Now I’ve graduated and I have the time to reflect on these things, I don’t remember ever actually deciding I wanted to go to Sixth Form or University, it just sort of happened, perhaps because I was clever and that’s what everyone else was doing, which begs the question: how do I judge if my education has been a success? Yes, I have achieved Upper Second Class Honours and I’m now a Bachelor of Arts, but what does this actually mean, if anything at all?
When I started at University, I thought, arguably because I’d been told to, that to be successful in my chosen field of Politics I’d have to get at least a 2.1 and then move down to London and get some sort of job in the centre of it all, perhaps by joining the civil service or becoming some sort of political advisor. It was subconsciously embedded within me that anything less than this would amount to a complete and utter failure, as well as a waste of my (apparent) intelligence.Three years later, I can’t think of anything worse than a career in Politics, working eighteen hour days for crap pay to either produce, implement or report on policy that, in reality, no one gives a shit about. This means, however, that I’ve now got absolutely no idea what I actually want to do with my life.
Therefore, I have decided to take some time out in the short term, get a part time job and spend a year or so attempting to figure out what it is I want to do with my life which, I think, is perfectly logical. In choosing this path, it has become apparent to me just how narrow our definitions of success are, largely because, rather than attempting to understand my decision and sympathise with my predicament, a significant number of people have instead just assumed that I lack the motivation and willpower to pursue a serious career and, as I alluded to in the first paragraph, I have just decided to “waste” my degree and take the easy route in life. This is where I begin to question the definition of success.
Surely, if I am happy in my current situation (which I am), there is no need for me to rush into a career that I’m not totally sure I want to pursue? Surely, if I’m likely going to be working for the next fifty or so years (which I probably am), taking a year or so out to contemplate the path I choose is entirely negligible in the grand scheme of things? Surely, if after my contemplation, I decide I am happiest remaining where I am rather than pursuing a ‘serious’ career (which is totally possible), the fact I am happy should outweigh the supposed waste of my education?
Success is portrayed as subjective but I would argue it is subjective and I’m tired of being constantly chastised for failing to adhere to certain peoples interpretations of it. Currently, I am the happiest I have been in an extremely long time; lockdown has allowed me time to get to know myself all over again, I am enjoying living at home, I’ve got myself a part time job to keep my finances ticking over and I am genuinely looking forward to spending twelve months reading, writing and figuring out what it’s all about. There is a distinct snobbish undertone to the way people react when I inform them that I’m not really sure what I plan to do with myself, almost as if it’s a universal norm that you should have your life completely mapped out at this point in your life.
This isn’t to say that I’m envious or resentful of those that do have their lives planned out at this age – I am proud of my friends who have got themselves proper jobs and set themselves on promising trajectories towards successful careers, I’m just undecided whether this is the right course of action for me. Realistically, if you take a cynical view of things (as I usually do), I don’t ever see myself settling down & having kids and the chances of me ever owning my own home are practically zero, so regardless of what you think of it in theory, in practice taking a year out is going to make absolutely no difference in the long term. We’re the first generation in modern history facing the prospect of a worse standard of living than our parents and it’s a fantasy to pretend that, even if I wanted it, there’s a cushy office job out there waiting for me.
Although it may surprise some of those who know me best, I find the concept of having no idea what I’m going to be doing in a few years time quite exciting. For the first time in my life I actually feel as if I am in control, like I can do what I want and there is no one who could stop me. Realistically there was no one stopping me before, but the pressure and assumptions that were placed on me going to Sixth Form and University made it virtually impossible to even consider any other path. I’m looking forward to finally being able to live for a while without having any expectations hanging over me – considering the pension age will probably be about seventy five by the time I’m ready to retire I hardly think it’s fair to expect me to have my life planned out at the age of twenty one years old.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that everyone is on different paths in life and I’m tired of being judged for being unsure which path it is that I’m on. I might choose to pursue a career in politics, I might attempt to work in a different industry or I might choose to work part time in a bookies for the rest of my life, I genuinely have no idea, but surely what really matters is the fact that I’m happy? It’s frankly insulting and almost upsetting that some people seem to be more concerned with the amount of money I’m going to be making rather than my physical and mental wellbeing (at least it would be upsetting if I could bring myself to care). The world we live in is defined by its constant uncertainty and I refuse to apologise for failing to live up to expectations that have been set for me by people who have based their ideas of success on a society that focuses more on material wealth than emotional contentedness. For the first time in my entire life I am confident in the decisions I am making and I am genuinely happy – that to me is how success should be defined.
