Is It Your Destiny If It Is Expected of You? - Rejecting your pre-designed life path, but still searching by Enyjé Sandoz

 

You ever wake up one day, and suddenly everything looks and feels different? This distinction isn’t just in the external world but also in your internal world—you see things differently, you think differently, and overall, you are just different. One might argue that the external changes are a reflection of your inner changes, but point being—shit is just different. 

This has been me since May 26, 2021—also known as my 20th birthday. Something about that day seemed different like suddenly the past 19 years and the person I was for those 19 years (or 20 years according to the new phenomenon that the age you turn on birthday is the year you just completed, not the year you are starting) just suddenly vanished, and I had a blank slate—just minus the tools to navigate it. 

Now, I could chalk it up to the Super Full Moon Eclipse in Sagittarius occurring on that day, but then again… four years later, and here I am still feeling that dissonance—not necessarily disassociation, but just this recognition of the separation of my outer and inner world, and how out of alignment they were. 

The year I turned 20 had a lot of newness: moved into the home I lived in for the past 4.5 years, went back to school after withdrawing from FIT, cut my hair to shoulder length, and then went to a stylist to cut it shorter, started therapy, and probably some more stuff I am missing but cannot remember. 

Moving was cool—I changed the look of my bedroom about five times; moved again. 

My time at GCC—graduated last year with two degrees, going back this Fall. 

Cutting my hair—what a glorious time! A summer without hair on your neck?! Glorious! 

Therapy—interesting and cool, lasted about 2.5 years; my last session was in 2024. 

With all of these physical beginnings, endings, and transformations, one thing that remains consistent is my search for passion—the everlasting flame that signals my inner world is alive and thriving, something to pour my all into. 

I feel like since I turned 20, I have found pockets of this—whether it be a new music release, rediscovering old music and tv shows/movies, learning new things (bonjour!), living in a different state that actually feels like it’s separate from the rest of the country (my fellow Californians—whether natives or transplants, understand what I am talking about) and exploring, experiencing things I used to dream of as an East Coast, Jersey Girl (attending a fan listening party—like what?!), I’ve had glimmers of this flame being lit. Ultimately, at some point, the flame fizzles, and life starts to feel vapid. 

This insipid abyss has resulted in an increase in my self-reflection to figure out why things feel so uninspiring, why I am in this weird liminal space, and how the fuck do I get out of it? 

Being caught between nostalgia and familiarity and an unknown that does not spark a modicum of curiosity is jarring. You are fully aware that you have grown out of your old habits, interests of your teen years, but at the same time, you are reunited with things from your teen years or even earlier that light you up. 

Then, you have this unknown, which is a combination of your present and your future. It’s like being in a house full of mirrors, and all you see is yourself. In each mirror, it reflects back to you a path you can take—you see the steps to take, what it would look like to walk that path, but the lack of feeling it evokes makes you move on to the next. This process is repeated until you realize you looked at the presented paths, yet you are still in the same place—not necessarily physically, but on a soul level. Despite the physical steps you enacted, things seem mundane or like a struggle—not a challenge, and you are steadily moving but with no clear destination in mind. All the while, because you are an adult, the ‘real world’ exists: responsibilities, needs, wants, the whole shebang, so you feel this pressure—not even from the outside world but within yourself, which just compounds your inner afflictions. 

During my many reflection sessions (basically my everyday routine), I wondered if this is a sign of grappling with maturity and responsibility—maybe for some it is, but for me, not at all. 

I was the child who was always future-focused; I quite literally lived for my future (I’m talking about considering my college résumé in the 4th grade and having one created for me since I was in Pre-K), yet not knowing exactly what future I was creating. In terms of responsibility, I have never shied away from it. In fact, having responsibilities actually provides me with a sense of security and stability. So, I can confidently assert that maturing and gaining responsibilities does not frighten me. 

Going back to younger me, I feel like she had her life etched for her based on her academic and extracurricular success—hence me having a résumé since being in Pre-K and referring to my college résumé in my 4th grade writing assignment, or my greatest fear in the 2nd grade (roughly 8 years old) being failure, but the older I got, I started to reject it. 

One thing I hate is being told what to do—yeah, fully have authority issues (it has been this way since a child—always been the child to challenge and question why, and only did what made sense to me, but I hate even more to live up to other people’s expectations for me. It might sound crazy to some, but to me it’s the story of my life. 

So because I excelled in school, did a million and one extracurricular activities, and obviously intelligent, the expectation was for me to go to college. It was not even something that had to be drilled into me or even remotely introduced; it was just the obvious thing. 

I greatly resent that because I find it to be imprisoning in the most soul-maddening way ever. 

My vision of college was informed by expectation and my wanting to move out of the area I grew up in—hence my obsession with UCLA in the eighth grade, but I never had the desire to go or truly foresaw myself in college. 

You know what I envisioned for myself? 

Sitting in the backseat of a black Escalade with the window rolled down enough that I could see out but did not fully reveal me, while I sported black Ray-Bans. 

Where did I even get this vision from? 

I have no clue but I had it since I was 6 years old, along with living in a mansion with a pool and decked out everything I could dream of (I actually sketched out my dream house during inside recess in the 5th grade, but it was on a whiteboard so I don’t have the sketch), and driving a Range Rover (no longer my dream car—point me in the direction of the convertibles, please!). 

Despite claiming I was going to pursue every career field that sparked interest in me—yeah, I was that child (I am a Gemini), I never concretely saw myself in a particular field. 

By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I just knew I wanted to retire by 30. 

I have always known the life I wanted to live and how I want to feel on a daily basis (impassioned, fulfilled), and now that I am in the position to make it happen, I have no clue where to start. 

Do you?