The Lovely Ordinary

I never thought I’d be going back to school.

I was a good student growing up. The kind that did what was expected, got decent grades, and stayed on track. But I never really liked school. It always felt like something to get through, not something to enjoy.

After high school, I didn’t follow some expected path. I chose what I wanted. I got an art degree, and I heard all the opinions that usually come with that.

That it was a waste of time.
That it wasn’t practical.
That it wouldn’t lead anywhere.

But it was something I genuinely enjoyed. And at the time, with the plans I had in mind, I really believed an associate’s degree was all I needed to build the life I wanted.

I was going to make photography work. I was going to build something of my own.

And for a while, I did.

I photographed weddings, worked with students, and built relationships. I learned how to run a business, how to work with people, and how to handle pressure. I grew a lot in those years, both personally and professionally.

I don’t regret any of it.

In fact, photography gave me more than just experience. It shaped my life in ways I never could have planned. I met my best friend through it, and through her, I met my husband. That alone makes it worth it.

But my business never really grew the way I had hoped. Not for lack of effort, just the reality of it. And when the opportunity came up to move states, I made the choice to go. I closed my business and followed my husband to Tennessee.

It wasn’t some dramatic ending. Just another shift. Another version of life that I hadn’t quite planned for.

And somewhere in that in-between space, I made a decision I never saw coming. I went back to school to finish my bachelor’s degree.

If I’m being honest, the turning point wasn’t some inspiring, movie-worthy moment. It was frustrating. A little humbling, too.

I applied for a high-level role that I knew I could do. Not in a hopeful, “maybe I’m qualified” kind of way, but in a confident one. I had the experience. I had the background. I knew I could deliver.

The hiring manager even told me as much.

But it didn’t matter.

Because I didn’t have a bachelor’s degree, they couldn’t even move me forward. Not a phone call. Not an interview. Nothing.

And that stuck with me.

Not just because I didn’t get the opportunity, but because it made me wonder how many other doors had quietly stayed closed for the same reason. How many times had I been overlooked before I even had the chance to prove myself?

That’s a hard thing to sit with.

There’s something frustrating about knowing you’re capable, but still being told you don’t meet the requirements. That experience alone isn’t always enough. Sometimes, the box just needs to be checked, whether it feels fair or not.

So I went back.

Not because I suddenly fell in love with school. Not because I had some big academic awakening. But because I understood the reality of the world I’m trying to move forward in.

And honestly, it’s been different this time.

I’m more focused. More intentional. I don’t care about perfection the way I used to. I care about progress. I’m not here because I have to be. I’m here because I chose to be.

And that changes everything.

And in a way I didn’t expect, I’m finding small moments in this season that I actually enjoy.

I’m learning things I want to learn.
I find myself looking forward to some of the discussion boards, seeing how other people think and experiencing perspectives I wouldn’t normally come across.
I’m making connections with people I never would have met otherwise.

And some nights, it’s just me, a quiet house, a cup of coffee, and an assignment in front of me.

It’s simple. Maybe even a little boring to someone else.

But there’s something about it that feels steady. Good.

Going back to school as an adult isn’t glamorous. It’s not always convenient. It doesn’t fit neatly into your life the way it did when you were 18 with fewer responsibilities and more time.

But there’s something grounding about it, too.

You show up differently when you know exactly why you’re there.

I still don’t love school. That hasn’t magically changed.

But I respect what it’s giving me access to.

And I’m learning to appreciate the quiet, ordinary moments that come with it.