“It’s what I want to do.”

I have probably said this sentence so many times in my life that I actually do not know if it – whatever ‘it’ could be – actually is what I want to do.

Hello everyone, sorry for the absence. I’ve been having some few thoughts on what I want to do with my life… is it too soon for a 23-year old to have an existential crisis?

Growing up, I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. I always had this thought of dying by the age of 40 (which at the time seemed like a good age to die at), but other than that, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.

Then I got into wanting to move out of my home country. But how? With no plans of life in a small country I decided it would be a good idea to just up and leave. But I needed the money still… I was innocent okay?! Don’t judge me! Somehow, though, I found a loophole: making money… abroad! Obviously before that, I’d be working part-time somewhere I would not regret leaving to save up money.

So I started looking up jobs that would, more often than not, require me to travel: photography, private investigation (yes, like that exists here in Malta), interior designing (same as before), and being a tour guide.

I had always expressed the desire to live abroad, since before I turned 10 years old.

Parents: “Dear you cannot just pack up and leave the country. And there is no careers here for those. Why not become a teacher?”

Me: “But it’s what I want to do.”

When I realised the downfalls of how hard one had to work to move abroad to work, I found a passion which I realised I was actually quite good at: writing. I couldn’t believe it, through the years, where people would tell me I had real talent and that I should do something out of it.

So I decided to sit for a Journalism course… or at least attempt it. I lasted one year.

Parents: “There’s no real job in Journalism.”

Me: “But it’s what I want to do.”

While at Uni, I found yet another passion: cinematography. I took a small extra curricular course in Scriptwriting and was told I was good at it. Furthermore, the NYFA offered me a scholarship to study in the U.S. after a recommendation sent by one of the lecturers of the short course. I declined half-heartedly. That was partly my depression’s fault rather than succumbing to pleasing the parents.

Parents: Filming? In Malta?

Me: “It’s what I want to do.”

Yes, I had this conversation (correction: argument) with my parents many, many times. And, honestly, it never got anywhere. I ended up succumbing to the pressure of “pleasing my parents”.

Which leads me to the present day…

I am not a writer by profession. I’m actually an LSA, much to my dismay. But I kind of like it. Helping children grow up academically, mentally and socially is quite rewarding at the end of the day. It is what I want to do? I’m not sure yet.