Doubt

Honestly, I’ve been having a hard time lately. The culprit, as it usually is with me, was indecision. This afternoon, after several wakeful nights of imagining, dreaming and fearing, I finally withdrew from my college and began the transfer process (inshaallah) to another school.

This blog entry isn’t exactly about Morocco; but it is about my experience as a gap year student, and may interest anyone planning on taking a gap year.

There are five students in our group who entered their gap year committed to a college; at least three have had serious second thoughts. Of course, a year abroad changes you. More than that, it gives you an opportunity to think about your college decision… and think, and think, and think.

I believe and hope my decision was for the best—but even if the choice were exceedingly clear, I  would still mourn the college I’ve withdrawn from. For nearly a year I’ve accepted that college as my future; I’ve defended it to detractors of women’s colleges; I’ve made friends there who I’m sorry to leave. I was on the edge of tears when I sent my withdrawal email. It was heart-wrenching to give up, in the click of a mouse, the community in which I’d so long imagined my future.

If you’ve noticed this is ridiculously melodramatic, you’re right. What a problem to cry over—the choice between two top liberal arts colleges! And every day I walk past beggars.

Choice is both a wonderful and a terrible thing—and according to the psychologist Barry Schwartz, a major source of human unhappiness. I remember reading about one study, probably his, in which subjects took a photography course. At the end, they were split into two groups; those in the first group were given a print of one of their photos. Those in the second group were given (I think) two prints and asked to choose one to take for themselves. Later, all subjects were asked to rate their level of satisfaction with their print.

The result? Those who had had no choice in the matter were much happier than those who had chosen. Choice opens the doors of regret. As choosers, we are aware that we could have had something else and that something else might have been better.  

Our society aggravates the problem by perpetuating the myth of the One. The One True Love; the Dream College; every year I go to choose a pumpkin for a jack-o-lantern and actually find myself seeking the Perfect Pumpkin. We’ve built up a culture of expecting perfection; we tell ourselves there is one perfect place, one perfect person, one perfect thing for us. When you take a step back from this attitude, and the culture we’ve built up around it, it’s actually quite comical. I recognize it as comical and I recognize it as a myth; I know there are many places and people and things that would benefit me in different ways. But acknowledging a myth doesn’t make you immune to it. And I can’t help but wonder, with the vast amount of time my gap year has placed between my high school graduation and the beginning of college, have I made the right decision?

This, for me, has been without a doubt the hardest aspect of my time abroad. But with my decision made, I’m ready to immerse myself in Morocco for the last two months and accept that what happens, happens.