Coming to the decision that I would not be happy in the 9-to-5 job I had spent four years of my college career pursuing knocked me off balance. I was scrambling for a purpose, trying to decide what my version of happy was. With a fancy Emory diploma in hand, I decided to pursue the one thing I couldn’t seem to escape no matter how hard I tried: the life of an artist.

That is not to say it hadn’t always been my dream. Quite the opposite: from the time I could stand, I was pretending I was on-stage, babbling non-sensical soliloquies to my family members in the way only a two-year-old can. From then on, I found any and every excuse to perform: grade-school poetry competitions, holiday church recitals, and, eventually, one-act and full-length play productions.

Even though acting was always my main extra-curricular, I could never quite raise it to any title higher than “personal hobby.” Fear of failure stopped me every time from considering it as anything more. However, when I took a break from acting in my senior year of high school, I knew I had to have it back (forever) in my life in some way. Thus, I went into college with the intent of studying the other side of performance I’d yet to explore: film.

I fell in love. With classes requiring me to watch movies (yes, please) and extracurriculars centered around the stage, my life was filled with art, and I eagerly soaked it all in. However, that fear niggled in the back of my mind. So I pursued a Bachelor of Business Administration, with concentrations in Marketing, Information Systems & Operations Management, and, of course, Film & Media Management. I took what I thought was the “smart” path.

Goizueta was good for me. I learned so many practical skills that I don’t regret pursuing that degree one bit. In fact, it helped me to discover my passion for design, a creative pursuit sparked by my interest in the practical applications of art. Designing websites, logos, and everything in between allowed me to combine my knowledge of business with my interests in personal expression, and I found it so freeing to do that for others and myself. It was (and still is for me) storytelling in an ever-evolving, technological medium.

Yet all the while, I couldn’t help but feel like I was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. When it came time to start looking for jobs, I realized forcing myself to be someone I wasn’t was not “smart.” I’d unintentionally become the idiot I’d been actively trying not to be. So as my fellow graduates fielded offers from Fortune 500s, I decided to take the road less traveled.

It hasn’t been a walk in the park. The film and theater world is littered with stories of artists who didn’t make the cut, and becoming an independent contractor hasn’t been any easier: the “90% of start-ups fail” statistic from my business classes still haunts me. No word yet whether I’ll add my name to the list of failed actors and entrepreneurs.

However, this time I’m ready. Ready to fail, get back up, and fail again. Even after months of fumbling, I still haven’t lost the passion for people and art that makes this crazy life the right one for me. Every day is a new adventure, which means I’m living the life I’ve always dreamed of, and I’m so incredibly happy.

Who knows where I’ll be a year from now. Maybe I’ll be lost again. But if it’s in these beautiful woods, you won’t see me complaining. And that makes all the difference.