Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood, and I Keep Worrying About the One I Took
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
In the many job interviews I have taken, this question always came up in some form or another. The appropriate answer (as the interviewer expected) was to incorporate your long-term goals, motivations, and aspirations into a concise answer that preferably fits under one-minute.
After repeating my perfectly formulated five-year goal in several interviews, I can honestly say I hated the question wholeheartedly.
Let’s be honest, who actually knows what the future holds for us? We spent the first 18 years or so of our lives walking the path our parents and society have chosen, and then we were expected to choose a college degree (or anything else for that matter) that will most likely define our future. For some of us, what we choose fits like a glove. For the unlucky ones, we were sentenced to squirm and question our very existence.
Where do you see yourself in five years? Despite my sure-fire answer in my interviews, I’m honestly not quite sure. Should I continue this path I have taken, after all the sweat and cash went down the drain? I don’t even know what I’m going to have for breakfast tomorrow, much less my career.
Many of us have been in this dilemma; fresh out of college, with warm resume off the printer, while faced with so many options. Which one to take? Which one is the best for us? Which one will not make me regret my decision in 5 years?
Robert Frost muses this same impasse:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
After five years in the career that I have chosen for myself, I still don’t know if this path is right for me. Am I good at it? Sure I do. I worked as hard as the next ambitious graduate, trying to be the next Elon Musk while crafting my way as Bob Ross’ apprentice. I was promoted at work, my boss appreciates me, and my peers assured me that I were going places. I felt like I had chosen right.
And yet — someone else would be better. Usually it would be subtle; a notification on LinkedIn that your college peer was promoted to a lead position in a top tech firm, or a simple Instagram post of your high school friend graduating with two PhDs. Either way, the effect is instantaneous. The path I’m in suddenly feels very wrong.
You could almost say it wasn’t entirely my fault. Our modern culture was built with the mindset that the grass is always greener on the other side, or that the other path should have been chosen instead of the one we’re walking on. With the rise of the shiny images of social media, comparing your laundry with your neighbours has never been easier. As a millennial, I envied the older generations for not having to go through this.
Should I have taken something else entirely back in college? Maybe that law degree wasn’t so bad after all. Or maybe skipping college to make your own business might have been the better choice. What if I have taken a different path with a higher starting salary and prospect? Will I be successful then?
Back when the cards were dealt to us, we picked the one that started all this. Back then, after judging the circumstances and the environment around us, we picked the card that we felt was right. And here we are now, the result of the choice we made long ago. Should we be angry at our past self for choosing wrong?
In Robert Frost’s poem, the two paths were merely similar:
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
Right now, it feels like I’m lagging excruciatingly behind everyone’s achievements.
I keep reminding myself that this path of life I am now is right for me, as bitter as it might be to accept. Fate conspired to manipulate the cards that were handed to me, and I can only make the best of what I have, with or without officially formulating my five-year goals.
Will I have a PhD if I chose the other card back then? Maybe, but I wouldn’t have met my life-long friends in my mere college course.
Will I be a hot-shot lawyer if I chose a different path? Maybe, but I wouldn’t be home as often.
Are those paths better?
Who knows?
The card that has been picked can’t be returned to its pile, as much as I wanted to.
At the end of the day, I can only comfort myself with the knowledge that whatever path I choose, it will be alright.
Yes, it will be alright.
