If you ask me: what’s so wrong with changing your major?

By Julia Swain

For many college students, the question of “What’s your major?” carries a lot of weight. It’s often asked with the expectation that your answer reveals who you are and where you’re headed. But what happens when that answer changes? Why is shifting direction still treated as a sign of failure instead of growth?

I remember vividly returning from a mission trip this past March that challenged my idea of what I wanted to do after graduation, and sharing that information with my professors and my peers. After way too many conversations that ended with, “Oh you’re totally just going through a post-mission trip high. You definitely still want to do journalism!” I eventually stopped talking about it. 

Even now, as the path to doing youth ministry after graduation instead of journalism has become even more clear, I still get a lot of odd looks when I share my story, or comments that feel more like judgment than genuine curiosity. Some people react as if I’ve wasted my time studying journalism, or as if I’m “throwing away” years of effort by taking a different path. But to me, it doesn’t feel like wasted time at all. My journalism classes have taught me to write clearly, to think critically, and to tell stories that matter — skills that will serve me no matter where I go.

The idea that changing your major (or even your career path) is equivalent to failure is a mindset we’ve collectively built, but it doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. Life hardly ever follows a straight line, and why do we often expect 18, 19, 20, or 21 year-olds to choose what they want to do for the rest of their lives perfectly on the first try?

Shouldn’t we see a change of direction as evidence of growth and maturity, not failure? Yes, switching majors or career paths can mean graduating later, having to pivot internship plans, or feelings of “Did I just waste the last four years of my life?” but those things pale in comparison to the cost of staying locked into a path that doesn’t excite you.

Would I feel more secure and comfortable if I was still planning on doing journalism after graduation? Absolutely. Would I also be ignoring what I feel is a genuine calling? Without a doubt. Holding on to journalism would feel safer—a familiar path I’ve already invested in. But deep down, I know that comfort and security aren’t the same as fulfillment.

Ultimately, choosing authenticity over convenience is never a step backward. If anything, I think it shows a deeper kind of confidence — the courage to say, “This is where I thought I was going, but now I know myself better, and I’m ready to pivot.” That’s not indecision. That’s growth.

So the next time someone changes their major or career path, maybe we should stop asking, “Why did you change?” with raised eyebrows, and start asking, “What did you discover?” Because, if you ask me, the real failure isn’t changing your major—it’s ignoring the calling you’ve found along the way.

Julia Swain is a senior Journalism student and the Editor in Chief of Cedars. She enjoys concerts, coffee and watching and analyzing any Cleveland sports team.