Branches on Our Fig Trees: How TXST Students Navigate Conflicting Dreams

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TX State chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

Sylvia Plath invokes a fig tree with branches that depict each of our unique and diverse dreams in The Bell Jar. That image of branching futures haunted me throughout senior year and as I came to Texas State. So many of us are in this back-and-forth, trying to decide between our dreams, hopes, and futures. Where did all these branches come from, and how do we determine which fig we pick from the tree? I wanted to take a closer look at the fig trees of the students at Texas State, the branches they gave up on, and the fruit they chose to pursue. Maybe then I’ll get a grasp on my own dreams.

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor… I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

The Roots

I was always a daydreamer. As a child, I skipped recess to read in the library, dressed up in princess costumes, staged plays, and forced family audiences. Now, I daydream while walking to class, scrolling through Pinterest, or painting in quiet hours. My ambitions sometimes terrify me. Should I commit to one dream or leave my life open to many? In one moment, I imagine dancing on Broadway; in another, I’m writing songs, curing autoimmune diseases, lecturing in a grand hall, building a magazine in New York, and sometimes even owning a café on the side.

The Branches 

In day-to-day life, the tension is real. I’m an English major who is pre-med, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder if what I was doing was the right choice. It feels like if I choose to pursue the arts, I lose science, and vice versa—just like the plopping figs Plath mentioned. So, I’ve been trying to sustain both passions. I write for a magazine, style for fashion shows, volunteer for health drives, work as a tutor, and do endocrinology research on my own. But honestly, at this point, it just feels like I’m burning myself out, giving not only my all to school but also to work, Biology, and English. It was enough to make me wonder if I was the only one in college with an ever-changing and growing fig branch. Every opportunity and dream I have seems too beautiful to forget about. Would I be doing myself a disservice if I gave up on one or the other? And would I ever look back regretful in the future?

The Orchard 

I started asking these questions to students around the Texas State campus. What I noticed was drastically different from what I had expected. “I wanted to be a professional baker when I grew up,” said the girl who loved making raspberry cake. I asked her what she was pursuing currently, and she said, “I decided to become a school counselor instead.” She mentioned she still baked in her free time and that she didn’t regret making the switch…she was content. I was so shocked and impressed that it seemed like such a casual thing to her. Maybe dreams and careers could coexist in two separate worlds.

As I kept interviewing, I realized everyone interpreted their aspirations and how important they were to them in different ways. The studying barista mentioned how the only thing she could think of as an aspiration was doing something with a touch of nurture: “I’d like to be a mother.” I thought that was very insightful; maybe some people’s dreams are one specific image. It made me happy to hear she was still pursuing an aspect of this by going into nursing, she hadn’t given up on what made her happy.

Later in the day, I met a girl sitting on a green bench under a tree. She told me that when she was little, she always wanted to be a vet; however, she “gave up on it because I’m really bad at math.” What seemed like a sad story (and enough to make me contemplate my own thoughts) turned hopeful when she added, “I’m really excited to go into social work.” I know dreams can change, and maybe it’s not about what they once were, but what you care about now.

I started asking if they had any other interests that were dream-, bucket list-, or fig tree branch–worthy. The girl with green and blue eyes said she’d thought about “owning a bookshop,” so it was normal to want to have side desires (!), I guess. The girl who once loved animals told me all about her jewelry business outside of the psychology work she does. And I can’t forget about the boy playing the guitar and how he always thought about songwriting, as well as working toward becoming an English professor.

The bottom line is that not one person I asked said they regretted the choices that led them to where they are now. It’s funny how it all seems to work out for the best, even when we feel the most vulnerable and confused. The fact that all of us had these bright, sparkling hopes bottled up made me feel so connected to strangers I didn’t even know.

My Figs 

 I sat down near a garden in the middle of campus, under my favorite tree, and started writing after these interviews. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting after going on a small adventure as a fig tree detective, but I’m happy I did. I think the most important thing I noticed was the fact that dreams change, but so do we, so trying to decide your whole future is pointless. What I can do is cherish the things that bring light to my life now, even if there are hard moments. I also discovered that all of us Bobcats are working toward something and everything in harmony. Although these were strangers, I shared their same worries, doubts, hopes, and courage as we walked into the unknown of adulthood.

For some reason, I expected to finish this article having decided exactly what I need to be, how, and when, but to be honest, I’m almost more excited to just experience it for myself. The only thing that I have decided is that I, for sure, want to do anything and everything that I dream about. It got me thinking about how I don’t regret how I feel now or what may have led me to the point that I am now. I might still be looking for the puzzle pieces to the bigger picture, but I’m taking my time and having fun while doing it.

Eventually, there will be a book of mine in the corner of a bookstore, an article written by me sitting in a quiet café, friends made along the way, films that make it to the cinema with my name in the end credits, and perhaps, on a rainy day, I will walk into the studio to teach a ballet class. I may not yet know which figs I’ll ultimately pick, but I do know this: I won’t let fear of choosing steal my joy in growing. In time, I trust I’ll see what fruit I was meant to harvest, and maybe, just maybe, plant  more trees along the way.