When I was 18, my dream was to work for National Geographic or Rolling Stone and travel the world, telling stories. To follow brilliant musicians on the road, to learn about and share their stories. To visit far-flung places, immerse myself in their cultures, meet new people, take in the architecture and art and cuisine and history, and then share those stories. I’ve always been a storyteller, I just never took the idea of turning it into a career seriously.

When I was in third grade, I was in my first school play. “Charlotte’s Web.” It was first-through-fifth-grade play, and I was a baby spider. The lead baby spider, who had the one line other than the one the three of us spoke simultaneously. I was thrilled and took it so seriously. I loved the book, the play, the story. I didn’t care that I was only on stage for a few minutes, it was the idea of sharing the story with an audience that mattered.

While fantasizing about Rolling Stone and National Geographic, I was struggling in college with no direction. I started as a secondary education major but was not passionate about it. I couldn’t see a future in that path, so it was difficult for me to be motivated and to stay on track. I’m someone who needs to see what the end goal is and how things connect in order to know that what I’m doing has meaning and value. So after my freshman year, I came home and got a job working retail. I was good at it and liked doing it, at a time when I really needed both. I took on additional responsibilities, and after a year I was promoted to a team leader. But I knew it wasn’t a long-term career. I just needed a goal, some kind of inner drive to motivate me and give me purpose.

One summer while I was in elementary school (don’t ask me which year, they all blur together), my family and I went on one of our many camping trips. That was the summer I decided I was going to learn how to read chapter books. It wasn’t yet required for school, but I had nonetheless decided that it would be my goal. It was an inner drive and purpose that summer. So, every stop we made, my parents had to be sure to find a bookstore or gift shop where I could find a chapter book to add to the list. The Amelia Bedelia chapter books were my favorite stories at that age.

After three and a half years in retail, I went to work in the family business, a small manufacturing company. The hours were steadier, and I was intent on finishing my degree. I had taken classes here and there and thought that a fixed schedule would make it easier (though somehow even at my local commuter school evening classes were still hard to come by). At work I assisted with HR and sales tasks, and I chose a practical major, business (this was now major number four, following education — history, education — English, and communication).

Growing up, I tried just about every extracurricular activity. Figure skating, ballet, gymnastics, jazz dance, swimming, t-ball, softball, pre-hockey (when the new ice rink opened in town, basically skating lessons in hockey pads, and no one would pass the puck to me because I was a girl), soccer, art classes, piano lessons, choir, and theatre. I wanted to try everything. It was like I knew there was something I was supposed to do, I just didn’t know what it was.

As a business major, I was bored out of my mind. No purpose. I tried restarting a dormant e-newsletter at work. Updating sales packets and the website, including product photos and descriptions. Ultimately, I accepted the fact that a practical major with no direction was just not for me and changed it to professional writing with a minor in communication. I was incredibly fortunate and privileged to be able to move back in with my parents so that I could cut my hours down to part time and increase my classes to full time. There was another person at the company they wanted to give more sales responsibility to, so my job shifted to include more work with the website and e-newsletter. We even talked about partnering with a company to redesign the website and a printer to completely redo the sales sheets, which were in serious need of an update. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the resources to do so, and both the company and I needed to pivot. I had been talking with one of my professors about what I was going to do after finally finishing my degree, and I still didn’t know. I felt like there was something I was supposed to do, I just didn’t know what.

Theatre was the high school activity that stuck. In large part because I developed a core group of friends who were involved. I had long loved theatre as a means of storytelling and enjoyed going to see plays and musicals and listening to soundtracks. And now I got to be part of it. I was never one of the leads though. I had some bit roles, but I was primarily a student director. I excelled at keeping things organized and on track, knowing where people were supposed to be and what they were supposed to do and say, then delivering that message in a positive and constructive manner. It wasn’t about being front and center, it was about the team — and the story.

Realizing I still didn’t feel like I would be prepared for an actual career even if I finished my degree, I started looking at different options. Eventually I decided to transfer to a different, higher-caliber university that I believed would better equip me for life after graduation. I was right. From the first semester there, I felt like I was on the right path. I didn’t quite know what it was just yet, but I could tell I was getting there. And then a professor took an interest in my background and recommended I look into a student writer position in the university’s marketing & communications office. I started as an intern my second semester there. A year later, I was hired full time. In an office responsible for e-newsletters and websites and one-sheets and photography and writing. All of the things I was organically drawn to before while begging for someone to clue me into what my career should be. (*slams head against wall*)

Fast forward 13.5 years, and I’m now at the same university in a position leading a talented team of marketers, keeping things organized, knowing where people are supposed to be and what they’re supposed to do, finding and sharing stories, and it all seems to make sense. I had to try a lot of things to get where I am. A lot of starts and stops and redos and successes and failures and getting back up and trying again. And somehow it all ties together.

Yet there’s still that untapped sense of adventure. It’s been buried a bit while I’ve focused on the practical. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I had to prioritize other aspects of life. But now that I’ve achieved professional success and am in a good place, it’s bubbling back to the surface. That wanderlust. The desire to travel the world. To visit far-flung places. To explore. To find new stories in new places. And to share them.