When I changed to an English Education major, there were many things that I was prepared for and even excited about. I love to read; I love to write; and I adore discussing the real world applications of the content of both those things. I enjoy teaching. I'm passionate about helping kids understand WHY these things matter. English is a good fit for me.
What I didn't know when I changed majors is how my choice would affect my own mental and emotional growth. Many of the issues that we read about and discuss are things that I've seen either in my own life or in my work. Some are things that I don't agree with, but read (because I have to) and then support arguments as to why I disagree with it. In addition to that though, I've realized that my own deepest, darkest baggage is thrown to the forefront of my mind through some of these class discussions.
At first, this was uncomfortable. As time has moved on, I've found it to be helpful. I've been able to reevaluate my own feelings and thoughts. I've recognized patterns in how I react (and their causes) that I might not have seen without this pressing. I've moved from the first steps of healing to the deep cleaning of my emotional carry-on. As is so often the case, it seems that I'm becoming a better person for a little discomfort.