I can picture it now: Me, sitting in my cap and gown, smiles and tears spread across the faces of my family members in our living room as the Zoom graduation plays in the background. They’re all so happy. I should be so happy. But all I can think is, now what?

I’ve always had a plan mapped out for me—a clear next step. That’s the frustrating beauty of growing up; usually, everyone else has already decided what your next step will be for you. Throughout my childhood, my parents made it clear that my next step after high school graduation would be college, without negotiation. I was happy to oblige. 

Now, four years later, I graduate with the class of 2021 with degrees in journalism and Spanish for the professions. Now, I face a competitive job market and no clear plan.

I’m terrified. 

And while yes, it’s scary to not have a job lined up after college, I think the real reason I am scared is for two main reasons: my desire for control and my need to impress others. 

While I often like to brag that I’m an adaptable, easy-going person, the truth is that I like to have everything mapped out. The day-to-day changes are fine, but the life changes stand in a league of their own—just thinking about going from having three jobs while being a full-time student to then graduating and having nothing going on but endlessly job hunting makes my skin crawl.

But even greater than my desire to be in control of my future is my need to make others—even strangers—admire me. Throughout all my life, I got praised for my ability to do well in school and to work hard. The “great jobs” have changed from an added bonus to an expectation; if I’m not told how great I’m doing, then I must be doing a terrible job. 

It’s no fault of my parents. They’d often remind me that I didn’t need to be perfect, that perfection itself is an illusion and maybe it would do me some good to mess up sometimes. My mom chuckled when I told her that I got written up at my job as an RA. “You’re more like the rest of us now,” she joked. She comforted me when I got a 67% on a test that was worth over a third of my grade in a class, knowing it would be devastating for me. 

I’m not sure at what point I adopted praise and excellence as part of my identity, or at what point the desire to do well turned into becoming a perfectionist who routinely waits until the last minute to do assignments because of my fear of failure. 

It’s why I have commitment issues, whether it be relationships, choosing a college or even committing to going to dinner with friends at a certain time. I hate having additional expectations placed on me—additional ways that I can mess it all up and everyone gets to see me for the fraud I am, a classic trait of imposter syndrome. To see that I’m not really that great. I’m impatient, controlling and can often take things too seriously. I can be really unsure of myself and paranoid, looking for the approval of others. The praise of others. 

So now, at one of the happiest times of my life, a lump forms in my throat when people ask, so what’s the plan after college? There is no plan. How disappointing. How boring. How mundane. 

But I have to remind myself to stop being impatient and actually take some time to think about how blessed I am and have been. I have loving, compassionate parents who have supported me financially and emotionally throughout my entire life—who have both made it clear that they just want me to be happy. I have found incredible friends who support me and care for me and actually like me, flaws and all, for who I am. I’ve met faculty and staff who have helped open doors for me, who have mentored me, who have assured me that even the people who seem to have everything figured out usually don’t have everything figured out.

We’re all taking it one day at a time—one step, known or unknown, at a time. It’s normal to be scared, to doubt yourself, to be unsure. Don’t beat yourself up for not having all the answers. You’re not supposed to. I’ve learned that as long as you are kind, authentic and put your best into what you do, that’s all anyone can ask. 

The past four years at the University of Colorado Boulder have been some of the best of my life. I got to attend a summer program prior to starting my freshman year that introduced me to lifelong friends; I traveled to Washington D.C. with two of my closest friends as part of a summit for a club we created; I met coworkers as an RA who soon became my favorite people to spend my days with; I met professors and faculty members in my college who mentored me and taught me the value of being a hard and kind worker; I helped found a student news organization and became a better journalist and communicator; I found a love for storytelling and the Spanish language; I studied leadership and came to understand how I could be a better leader, follower and overall team member; I found true joy in collaborating with others. And that’s just to name a few. 

I found a second home at CU Boulder and it’s the people who made it that way. I’m forever grateful to all of them, and it’s their support, their love, their encouragement that continues to inspire me to have hope for the future. To not give in to my fear or doubt. To embrace being uncomfortable, to be entering an unknown chapter. I have to remind myself that I’ve been unsure before; I have doubted myself before. And yet, somehow, things always work out in the end. 

So cheers to the end of our senior year and to the next chapter. Grab your loved ones, show off your degree and feel free to smile and cry with everyone else. We made it. We did it. Enjoy the moment, practice gratitude and celebrate and/or grieve the end of our undergraduate careers. 

What’s next? No idea. But that’s the exciting part.