Ten Reasons Why I Dropped Out of Law School

I am not here to justify myself.

For the first time in my life, I started something I could not finish. I hate to fail. But when it happens, one simply has to swallow the bitter taste in one’s mouth and, well, blog about it.

Here are the ten reasons why I dropped out of law school.

10. I didn’t think things through.

Right from the start. For a while, I was bored with my life. And I jumped right into the very next opportunity to mix things up a bit. Which was (surprise) a full scholarship in law school. But hey, it could have been worse. Like, say, dating a douchebag.

9. I overestimated myself.

Ah, pride. Don’t ever let it get into your head. In retrospect, I am thankful that I now have to carry the badge of being a law school dropout for the rest of my life. Pride is the hamartia of the classical heroes of literature: Gilgamesh, Odysseus, Beowulf… It’s good to take measures to not fall in with that crowd.

8. I never wanted it.

I like to dream. And once I have a dream, I drop everything and chase after that dream. But becoming a lawyer was never one of my dreams. And one day, I found myself wondering where I was headed to when I had no destination in mind. So I turned the other way.

7. It took a toll on me.

Early this year, I got into a fitness program which did wonders for me. I felt a ton lighter. I became way more confident. And the best part was, I didn’t get sick as much. So it came as an awful surprise when I started getting sick 3 or 4 weeks into law school. It wasn’t right to put my body through so much work without rewarding it with the right food or even at least a good night’s sleep. I’m sure some people can roll with that. But I’m made of less sturdy DNA.

6. I was no good at it.

Let’s face it. If law school had a dunce cap, I should have been the one sporting it school night in and school night out. Not that I didn’t try. I did. I really did. Which made things all the more frustating.

5. I once was told I wasn’t trying at all.

That was it. The ultimate cosmic joke. And nobody else got it besides me. Because nobody else knew the things I had to give up in the name of law school. The irony was, in that humiliating hour in class, I had an epiphany: “WTF am I doing here anyway?”

4. I started to doubt myself.

As a general rule, I don’t suck. I’m book smarter and street smarter than your stereotypical millennial. I’m a pretty good writer. And sure, I may not have model good looks, but I easily make up for it with my wonderful personality. In short, I’m adequately awesome. So when self-doubt crept in (as one of my colleagues quickly pointed out over lunch this week), I had to kick the habit out. That meant getting into the root of it all. Law school.

3. I grew deeply unhappy.

I used to have this joie de vivre the moment I got out of bed every morning. I wasn’t always in a happy mood. But I had joie de vivre nonetheless. And I lost that bit by bit in law school. I didn’t want to get out of bed anymore. I was spiraling down to what would eventually have evolved into something more sinister like depression. So I got a hold of myself. Along the line of “Whoa, life’s too short to not chase happiness, gurl-friend!”

2. I realized I wasn’t trapped.

July 14. Bastille Day. Liberty drove me to inquire about the course withdrawal process on the commemoration of the start of the French Revolution. When the French peasantry stormed the Bastille in the name of “Liberte! Egalite! Et Fraternite!” All right, I’m just over-romancing my decision now. Once I was oriented on the step-by-step process towards liberation, that was it. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of my “Liberte! Egalite! Fraternite!”

1. It kept me from what I loved the most.

I had to save the cheesiest reason for last. I honestly didn’t know why I decided to return to my teaching post this year. I downplayed it to the laziness of seeking other career options and the fear of the unknown and stuff like that. But the (gay) truth was, I learned to love teaching. And it took me 6 weeks in law school to realize that I was miserable to not be able to pour my heart into teaching, because I had to cut it in half for something I was never in love with in the first place.

So there. Call it what you will. Fate. Failure. A fated failure. I’m going to let the rest of the world bite that cake. While I excuse myself in pursuit of my own happiness…