I chose the wrong degree because I cared what other people thought, but it made me miserable

When I was 15, I decided I wanted to work at a fashion magazine.

I had a handbook that claimed to have the scoop on how to build a career in fashion, and I was obsessed with it.

After absorbing every piece of advice in the book, I had a better understanding of the industry, but I also gained anxiety and a realisation of just how difficult it would be to land my dream job. But this knowledge didn’t discourage me. It invigorated me.

Luckily, my parents were supportive of any career I wanted, whether I told them I wanted to be a makeup artist or a lawyer.

But at some point between my pre-pubescent years and college, I started to worry about how people perceived me and my career choice – and I’m not alone. From my experience, only a few of my classmates are completely happy with their degrees.

According to a 2017 study from GSM London, nearly one third of millennials consider their jobs as a “means to an end”. And 22 per cent believe their lack of confidence acts as the “barrier stopping them from fulfilling their goal”.

Similar to so many millennial professionals, my lack of confidence caused me to falter. I didn’t want to be seen as the type of person that was more focused on new fashion trends rather than the latest humanitarian crisis.

My own ego, and the fear of society categorising me as a lightweight, kept me from pursuing my passions. So I decided that an overly creative profession was simply not an option. Magazine journalism would, I thought, seal my fate as being seen as a girl – not as a strong-willed, leading woman.

After high school, I went to one the best journalism schools in the US, and I chose the most competitive, gruelling major I could, just to prove to myself that I could do it.

Instead of focusing on a realm of journalism I would have been better suited to, such as magazine writing or public relations, I forced myself to study convergence journalism, covering print, digital media, photography and more.

The rigorous programme taught me how to shoot and edit video, write scripts for radio and television, create social media elements and design supporting info graphics, all under a weekly deadline. When I wasn’t doing that, I was producing stories for local newsrooms.

It was an incredibly orchestrated programme, taught by two of the most compassionate, brilliant professors I’ve ever had. However, I became so stressed during the programme that I developed cystic acne, acid reflux and dozens of canker sores.

So, why couldn’t I bring myself to stop the madness and just switch course, as my parents suggested?

In my mind, I was experiencing the first bump in the road. What kind of coward would give up so soon? I convinced myself that it would only get better. I thought that I could do anything for six months. After all, this wasn’t engineering or working in A&E – it was journalism.

Since that semester, a lot has changed.

I realised that it wasn’t the first bump in the road. I had been on that path for a while. Since as long as I can remember, I had been doing things because I decided it was the right thing to do, rather than what I really wanted.

During the last six months I’ve had time to reflect on what went wrong because I’ve been doing something I love. As an intern at The Independent, I’ve had the opportunity to write about topics I find thrilling, such as politics and women’s rights. I’ve realised there is more than one way of chickening out, and I was doing it in a way that only hurt myself.

I’m not writing about that semester at uni because I take pity on myself. In fact, I know how lucky I am. But at least I’ve made a decision that will hopefully prevent me from starting along a career path where I would likely be miserable a lot of the time.

I hope other millennials don’t make the mistake that I almost made. I know it would be easy to do. Today, more people are pursuing higher education than ever before, so it’s normal to take an undergraduate degree for granted, and for job applications to be competitive. Everyone wants to stand out.

I have one more year of college and I’ve decided that, moving forward, I will embrace the unknown and pursue my passions – if an inspiring opportunity comes up, I’ll give it a shot.

Whether I end up pursuing a career in public affairs or in magazine journalism, it’ll be for no one other than myself.