The further I get into sonography school, the more I realize this just isn’t for me. I’m not even that far into the program, but every month that passes reminds me why I got here. 

I feel like I failed out of college. Although I’m told I have a degree and graduated, and yes, they are right, sometimes I feel like I don’t even have one. Because what am I supposed to do with it? 

I spent four years in college, and I feel like I walked away with nothing, and these constant thoughts keep coming back to me. 

Four years. 

Four years to figure something out. For years for me to make something of myself. Four years to pursue what I wanted. And I didn’t. 

I think that’s where so much of my anger toward myself comes from.

Because when I look at sonography school, I don’t see a career I have passion for and live for; it’s everything I wish I had done differently. 

I think about nursing school. Having the opportunity.. Not once but twice. And I still didn’t make it. 

I think about how, after the second time, I should have stopped and asked myself what I wanted, and I shouldn’t have continued down this path I always felt wasn’t right. 

But why did I stay in health communication? Why didn’t I change my major? Why didn’t I try marketing? Graphic design? Why didn’t I do something more creative? 

When I was little, they made us take those quizzes about what you could potentially be when you grew up. Maybe they never meant anything, and they’re not meant to be a guide. But every time I did them, I always got something involving art. 

Looking back, I can’t help but notice a pattern. I love drawing, baking, and making things.

I’m not the greatest, but I always try because I find genuine joy out of making things. 

From primary through high school, I was always part of the art club in some shape or form. I loved making my school’s theater backdrops; I loved designing the school’s newsletter; I loved designing themes and stuff around specific things. 

I entered an art contest in high school and made it to the top 5. And my work was displayed at a local university. 

I’m not saying this to brag and say how successful I am. But it’s the opposite. 

It’s the version of me I wish I had pursued in college. 

When I got my first computer, I remember telling my older sibling which one could handle both if I majored in nursing and possibly minored in graphic design. 

I genuinely thought I could do both. But I was so focused on surviving my nursing prerequisites and core classes that I pushed those dreams aside. 

And eventually they disappeared. Sometimes I think that when I failed nursing school the second time, I should have just stopped. I should’ve just done something related to what I loved. Even if it meant disappointing my family. 

My school focused on technology, and I had it right there. I could have explored design, marketing, anything. 

Instead, I kept going. And now I’m here. Starting over. And that’s the biggest pill I’ve had to swallow. 

When I see my classmates who continued pursuing nursing, getting jobs, and becoming independent in their respective careers, I can’t help but wonder what my life could have been if I had done things differently. 

I see them entering their new lives as new grads in nursing, and of course I’m happy I really am, but sometimes watching them succeed hurts. 

Because I think. 

Why couldn’t it have been me? Why didn’t I push harder? Why couldn’t I change anything sooner?

Why. It’s always going to be a why. 

And that hurts a lot. I don’t actually know if nursing school would have been as perfect as I imagined. Maybe I would’ve hated it. Maybe I would’ve struggled equally as much. Maybe I would have graduated and had resentment. I don’t know. 

But when you’re stuck in the past, it’s so easy to romanticize the life you could have had. 

I once imagined myself graduating, becoming a new nurse, getting a job, becoming independent, and feeling ready for the world. 

Instead, I’m almost a year post-grad, and I’m back in school. Trying to prove to myself that I can actually finish something. 

And I carry shame, guilt, anger, and fear. Sometimes all at once. 

Only a handful of people know I’m in sonography school and why. They know I’m going back to school, and they have said how happy they are for me. 

They just don’t understand the full story. That’s the part I wish my family knew sometimes. I know where I went wrong. I know what I could’ve done differently; I know I had opportunities. I don’t need someone else to list my mistakes. 

I try. I try so hard. I’m studying. I’m taking exams. I’m trying to build a career. 

Not because I want to, but because I have to. I don’t have a backup plan. I’m paying for the school. This is my last chance. I can’t afford to fail again. 

Because I don’t want my entire future built on regrets. I want to be proud of what I’m doing now. I want to be excited about a career I am building towards too. And yes, I get excited sometimes. I’m taking my SPI, and I know sonography can give me a stable career and a future where I am set. 

But the voice is still there, reminding me of all my faults. I hear my mother talk about being more frugal. Hearing how we have to be careful with money. I know she works hard to help me pay for school. When I hear that, I think, what if I end up doing nothing? 

I know it’s not fair for my family. But it always goes back to comparisons. How my siblings graduated school and got great jobs. How they are independent. And figured their lives out. And then it’s me, the daughter, that took longer. The one back at school. They assume I’m never even trying. 

When I heard my own aunt tell my mother that since I flopped out of nursing school, they stopped their own child from going. Conversations like that frustrate me the most. 

They assume. 

This blog is the only place I can say these things. Because I recognized the sacrifices my family has made. I know how hard they worked to get my siblings and me here. 

I know how privileged I am to have a mother who is willing to help me go back to school instead of leaving me out in the dust. Forever grateful. 

Being so grateful doesn’t erase guilt. Sometimes makes it even louder. Because how can I tell them that I hate where I ended up? How scared I am to fall back. 

But sometimes being grateful doesn’t erase the guilt. How alone I feel, how angry. So I’d rather keep it from them. 

I can’t help wandering these thoughts. 

What if?

What if?

What if?

I don’t know when these thoughts will stop. Maybe they won’t ever disappear. Maybe finishing sonography school won’t magically erase everything. 

I just hope one day I’m working, earning money, helping my family, and finally building the life I’ve worked so hard to reach. 

Maybe I wasn’t such a failure. Maybe I was young. I made mistakes. Maybe I took the wrong turns. But it didn’t mean my life was ruined. Right now, though. It’s hard to believe. I’m still carrying the weight of it all. 

I’m trying to become someone I’m proud of. 

Right now it’s about figuring it out. 

I hope you all keep following along as I figure this out. Maybe you’ll watch me grow from the insecure, scared woman I feel like right now into a strong, confident woman. I don’t know what the future holds. 

I hope I get to meet that version of myself someday.