If, someday, I miraculously came into contact with a working, reliable, and free-to-use time machine, you better believe I would make the most of it. Ultimately, I would probably want to go back and give myself some advice on how to make the most of high school, college, and everything in between (first tip would be to my 8th grade self: girl, please let a professional handle your eyebrows this early in the game…..seriously). Now that I’m a senior, and the end of my time at Scripps rapidly draws nearer and nearer, I think I’m pretty qualified to go back and give myself some guidance, especially considering everything that I have learned since starting my first day of high school all those years ago. Sure, I think I handled myself decently well, particularly through some of those awkward years I know we’d all like to forget happened (braces and bad haircuts a terrible sense of fashion, oh my) but there is always some room for improvement. That is why–with the gift of hindsight–I know that, if I had the chance, I’d definitely want to do some of it all over again, and that is precisely the kind of guidance I would want to give young Dorie.

For one thing, the idea that there is any kind of ‘one size fits all’ life plan should be thrown out the window. I remember starting high school and thinking that I would totally have my entire life figured out by the time I graduated–complete with a dream career goal, a solid understanding of myself and what I wanted out of life, and a definite knowledge of where my life was headed. Well, I can confidently say that literally none of those things happened once I crossed the graduation stage with my diploma in hand, and to think that I actually thought it was possible to have all of that figured out at age 18 is just silly to me. I mean, I’m well on my way to turning 22, and I still don’t think I have any of that stuff figured out–nor should I have to! But, again, that’s the beauty of hindsight.

Now, this is not to say that there aren’t people out there who do have their lives all spelled out, with a strong understanding of self, and a feasible and well-structured life plan just waiting to be executed. I know plenty of people, in both high school and in college, that firmly believe in what they are doing, know where they’re going, and are very happy in their decision to follow that path. These kinds of people are amazing! In fact, I used to envy these people, so much so that I tried my hardest to emulate them: picking a specific job title and basing my whole academic and extracurricular life around it, only to quickly realize that that path was not the right one for me. And, the thing is, it’s not the right path for a lot of people–yet we are constantly expected to know the answers to these kinds of things, and make big life choices that will absolutely affect us for the rest of our life before many of us even know what we really want.

It seems to me that my life has been a series of questions since I became a junior in high school: first, it started off with, “So, what colleges are you looking into? Do you know what you want to major in yet?” Then, first semester senior year of high school, it moved into the always enjoyable (especially the 476th time someone asks it–so, so much fun!!!) “So where are you applying? Do you know where you’re going for college? Have you heard back from any schools?” As high school graduation drew near, the questions became more pointed: “Where are you going? Where did you get into? What are you going to study? Did you tour there? Aren’t you excited?” Once I had graduated high school, I naively thought the questions would stop–little did I know that I would be peppered by these same kinds of questions for the next 4 years, varying only slightly to encompass the next big stage of adult life: post-grad plans.

The problem I have with all these kinds of questions is that they inherently equate success and maturity with having a clear and dependable life plan. There is no wiggle room left for the natural uncertainty and feelings of apprehension that–realistically–we have all probably felt when making such huge life decisions at such an important time in our life. I think the constant battery of these questions as we are growing up (for me, these questions started around junior year of high school, but depending on the individual, can often start even before that) has an extremely detrimental effect on the way in which we think we need to function. Had I focused more on exploring my passions and learning more about what I wanted in life, rather than following the standard “X number of AP classes + Y grade point average + Z elected positions on campus = successful high school student” formula that is pushed on us more and more these days, I would most likely be a very different person than who I am today; I might even be a little more secure in knowing exactly what it is I want to get out of life, and who I want to be outside of the bubble of the education system–something I didn’t let myself even question until I stepped on campus and realized how much I had been limiting myself.

What I know now is that there is no cookie-cutter formula to success, and no singular “right” way to get yourself through high school, through college, and out into the real world. There are certainly things that make it easier–like time management, motivation, a strong support system, etc.–but even with these helpful supplements, thinking that everyone needs to do X, Y, and Z in order to be “successful” is one of the most damaging and constricting notions that is repeatedly pushed upon us, and something I think desperately needs addressing.

That’s the advice I would give young Dorie if I could go back in time–if you had the chance, what would you want to say to your past self?