I used to picture a hobby horse, endlessly bobbing up and down and around, stuck in the same motion forever. I thought about how it must feel to specialize in one thing for your entire life— monotonous, predictable, repetitive. That was never going to be me.
I was never a specialist. I played several sports growing up and finally landed on volleyball as a sophomore in high school. I dedicated my time to improving my skills to make our high school’s team – the number 1 team in North Carolina – just to have my teachers question why I was getting dismissed early for an away game. “You’re on the team? I had no idea!” Once I was on any team it was the same way: “You’re a utility player, I can put you anywhere.”
I had a similar experience with academics. While I was an excellent student and took the hardest course load possible, I was never known as the smart kid or the teacher’s pet.
This used to gnaw at me, as I felt I had no landing space for my identity. This feeling followed me to college. I knew I wanted to major in Journalism, but I dwelled on what exactly I would do after four years at Carolina.
So many of my friends were going “the investment banking route” or “the consulting route.” My older sister is a nurse, which provided a straightforward educational path that I envied. It was overwhelming to watch my peers stride confidently toward their future while I struggled to find mine. Part of me wanted to go straight to law school, another part wanted to work for a sports team, another wanted to write for a publication, and another wanted to be an English teacher one day.
Before I let these thoughts consume me, I reflected on all the different opportunities that fell into my lap while at UNC and the skills they had refined–-marketing, videography, editing, writing, reporting, researching, and interviewing. While I might not have been the best at one thing, I became great at many things.
I realized it was the things I did beyond my resume that had shaped me the most. I had led a Bible Study alongside my best friend for a year. I had spent the summer working at a camp where I mentored the coolest kids and met some of my best friends. I had put myself out there by joining a new ministry where I could continue mentoring kids and meeting people who shared my values. I had made so many new friends at Carolina after coming from a small high school. My life was full of a love and fulfillment that I knew I would have regardless of my future career. My life was bigger than one job.
While I knew one day I would have to pick a career path (at least to start), I realized I didn’t mind wearing a ton of hats or being a “jill of all trades.” What once was an insecurity could actually be a strength. There may not be one perfect profession for me and that’s better. There is magic in possibility and an unknown future.
As I embraced this mindset, I needed a way to express it visually. When my graphic design professor asked our class to design our personal brand and logo, I thought of the hobby horse I had envisioned. I designed the hobby horse but labeled it “Not a one trick.” It embodied my refusal to be boxed into one identity.
I hope it can serve as a reminder that you don’t need to fit into just one box either. If you too have felt unsure of your path, embrace the freedom of not being a one-trick pony.