I Have No Idea What I Want to Do With My Life


And maybe that’s…okay?

I’ve always been one step ahead of myself, living a few years down the line. I did a bajillion internships in undergrad, knew I wanted to be a writer from elementary school, and my mom likes to remind me that I was excited about being my own person “far away at college” at just six years old.

Up until the day I graduated, I had a plan. I knew the classes, knew the people, wrote the words, projected all the good thoughts into the universe—I was on a path.

And then I looked up and realized I didn’t know what path I was on. I was walking—running—forward, full-tilt, towards nothing. I had no idea what anything beyond my next step was. Heck, once I got my first full-time job at the Everygirl, I had no next step.

To be honest, I still have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life.

My friend Audrey and I have a shared love of the word “unmoored” because it captures this idea of feeling lost and uncertain but so close to shore and grounding and knowing. I want desperately to know what the future holds for me. I want to know what I even want out of life. But the human person is just as vast and unknown as the future is, and it’s a scary and exhilarating realization to learn that I’m not who I thought I was.

Perhaps this is the hardest form of surrender: God, I don’t know myself, but You know me. God, I don’t know what my life will look like or what I want, but You know these things.


There’s a deep fear—a lie, in my heart of hearts—that if I don’t work work work towards understanding my passions and forming a career that I’m letting life pass me by. That I’m not “living my best life.” Heck, is a life without career aspirations even worth living? Yes. Obviously, yes. But that lie feels so true some days, that showing up to my job, to my loved ones, to my Scripture, to myself isn’t enough.

God, I don’t know myself, but You know me. God, I don’t know what my life will look like or what I want, but You know these things.

I’m starting to wonder if the “unmoored” feeling is exactly where God wants me (isn’t it always?). An abundance of confidence in self-purpose leaves no room for faith. I’ve lately felt grounded in my own self-awareness, a good thing! But perhaps this is a gentle encouragement to surrender my trust in my understanding of myself and put it back in the One who created—and is creating!— me to begin with.

So—do I know what I want to do with my life? Nope. But, I can show up today and own what’s been given to me before pursuing (read: begging God to move me on to) the next thing. And we can learn to be okay with that.