College blues

I am 37 and a college student. Now I completely understand that it is not unusual for people of all ages to go to school. However, where I come from, back in the day this was not an option. You did your studying when you were young. There was no going back once you were an adult with responsibilities. And never you mind changing your mind about your career half way through your life! No no no! You did what you learned, for the rest of your life.

My father laid cobble stones for over 50 years. And he hated every minute of it. He wanted to be a marine biologist. Hard thing to do in a land locked country, with a mother set on you inheriting the family business. My father's father died when my dad was an infant, he never knew him. You do not break your mother's heart a second time. SO my father became a cobble stone layer, and never inherited the family business. The communists confiscated it until 1989, and then it was too late for my dad.

This of course all took place in the 'old country'. There is no such a thinking here, and so I am in school. But I have to wonder, do I really want to be? I have kids, a husband, and a house to look after, and I do not mind telling you, I was not doing such a good job before I was in school, and I am sure not doing a good one now. I am swamped with homework, overwhelmed by assignments that are over my head and I am terrified out of my mind that I will fail, and my dream of not being stupid will evaporate into thin air. So I have to question my decision here, and wonder am I out of my league?

Education of Romana O.

School.
For years I have struggled with my identity. My path, my choices, took me in directions ( and yes I say directions, for more convoluted mind you have not seen) which were, to say the least, udesirable.
I realized that some form of training is absolutely necessary, not just to meet the "food and shelter" need, but for my own sense of accomplishment, self-actualization if you will. But a lack of trust in my own abilities forced me to undertake studies which were not as fulfilling as one hoped, even if they provided me with a self-esteem boost.
So, I took a good, long , painful look at myself, realized I knew nothing and let God make my decisions. As simple as that, one foot in front of the other, I found myself registering for a two year program, that simply scared the %^&* out of me, without much research into it or other programs like it, simply on the trust in God.
And off I went. My first class, first week, even I think the whole first semester, I spend doubting myself, and dreading the day when I will be unmasked and revealed for the fraud that I am. I mean after all, who do I think I am? I enrolled in a professional writing program(very technical, something I would not have chosen had I been making the decision as I prefer by far all things creative) and with a grade ten education and seventeen years between me and high school I took on a task which seemed beyond my capabilities.
Immense amount of pressure and self-doubt plagued me daily.
But, to my utter surprise, I managed. I met deadlines, I passed test and assignments were returned favourably marked. What kind of a Mickey Mouse school was this anyway? Do they just let anyone in these days? Do the teachers mark papers with their eyes closed? What are their qualifications anyway?
And then the ultimate accolade. One of my articles was picked up by a magazine and just like that I was published. My esteem shot through the roof. People liked what I wrote.
Regardless, finishing the first semester was a murderous accomplishment.
I enter my second with a different attitude, some say it is a cocky attitude, but I say it is a confident attitude and a matter of trust and Faith. I am where I am suppose to be, I am okay the way I am (improvements are to follow) and I will manage to survive this semester as well. And perhaps, who knows, great things will be learned, greater things accomplished.