20 February 2013 - Mature aged student

I graduated high school with grades that were well above average, the financial means and the intellectual capacity to go and get a degree. But I didn't.

I have often berated myself during the 8 years since then for not becoming a graduate. Regular mental breakdowns would see me posing the question "What am I doing with my life?!" And I certainly had a go at figuring it out.

First I wanted to be an artist. Or something to do with art. I just wanted to paint and get paid for it. One year into a Bachelor of Design at Christchurch Polytechinc the ball dropped. "Oh, so you're saying that the majority of graduates go on to teach or work in advertising or graphic design....?" I didn't want to do either of those things. I wanted to move countries and 'find myself'. So I dropped out.

Then I wanted to pursue counselling. I even spent a decent chunk of money on a questionable online diploma  which guaranteed me employment in the field. Then while working in a pscyhology office I realized I wasn't sympathetic enough to listen to people complain and feel sorry for themselves day in and day out. "Get over it" was the best I had to offer. So that was the end of that.

Next I wanted to be a youth worker. But after an interview (and job offer) from a residential centre for troubled youth I realized that when given this scenario in the interview "One resident is on the roof threatening to jump, while another is teasing them, telling them to do it. You are cooking in the kitchen with a third resident when you become aware of the situation. What do you do?" My honest answer (and not the one I gave the interviewers) is "Have a panic attack and get the hell out of there."

The next logical step was children. Yes. Children were easy and loveable. I enrolled in a childcare certificate at TAFE and quickly advanced up the career ladder at the centre that employed me in their pre-school room. But the heavy heart I had and frustration I felt daily over children being poorly parented, fed the wrong foods, deposited in childcare for 12 hours a day, five days a week, undisciplined, spoilt or neglected became too much for me. I couldn't sleep. I Spent my evenings in tears. And I quit.

In amongst all these experiences and attempts at careers was a burning desire to achieve a state of optimal health. I would spend hours researching nutrition, commit myself to the pursuit of goals regarding exercise and healthy eating, teach the pre-schoolers I worked with about fruit and vegetables (and even how to read nutrition labels on their snack foods!), dispense advice to co-workers who came to me with queries about eating right and exercise, trial different diet plans and healthy recipes, invest in expensive 'superfoods' and even read journal articles on the subject of nutrition late at night, wondering what impact the sugar laden treats the kids at work were given had on their behaviour. I would feel frustrated when work got in the way of all this. One day the thought finally dawned on me. What if instead of work getting in the way of this, work was this?

I love the quotes that speak to us about choosing a career that roughly say to "Find something you love to do and then find a way to get paid for it" Maybe it did take me 8 years to figure out the thing that I love to do. And I'm okay with that. It's all worth it in the end. Because once I graduate I'm going to be able to be paid for it.

They call me a "mature aged student" at university now. I like this term because it emphasizes that maturity as a student comes with age. I remember when I did attempt my design bachelor at the age of 19 I, and other students of my age group, were the most "immature" with our approach to study. I would regularly miss classes, leave things to the last minute and be generally flippant about the degree. I used to marvel at the older students in their twenties who always seemed so organized and passionate. I would ask them what their secret was. I think I know the answer now. Age. Time. Maturity. Well now - That's me.

I'm a mature aged student. And damn proud of it.