Before I went off to college, my father told me “Law, medicine, or disownment.”
I took him seriously. I didn’t have the guts to risk disownment, I didn’t think I could hack premed, and so after I finished my undergraduate degree, I went to law school. I graduated, and then I took the bar. I didn’t find employment as a lawyer. I wasn’t really looking.
I came home. I expected I’d stay for a week or two before finding my own place, embarking on a search for a non-law job, and generally getting my life together.
Life did not go according to plan. I haven’t lived with my parents in any meaningful sense since I was fifteen (boarding school and then college and grad school) and my mother is delighted to have me home. My father is trying his damndest to put me in touch with people who know people so that I can work as a lawyer here in the country where my parents are currently living.
I did my requisite summer at a law firm, and that was bad enough. Just the thought of working at a law firm without knowing that it’ll be over at the end of the summer makes me feel claustrophobic. I was severely depressed (not suicidal, but close) during my first year of law school; I’m afraid it’ll happen again.
I have tried to tell my parents that their plans don’t line up with what I want. That I would rather take my chances moving back to a country where I haven’t lived for over a decade and don’t know anyone and trying for the career I actually want, than follow their directions and work at a job I have no interest in whatsoever.
My mother won’t go for it. She says she refuses to let me ruin my life, and she’s guilting me into following orders. I know she’s guilting me into it, but it’s still working. She’s tried to tell me that I can quit after a few years, that I can go off and chase my harebrained dreams later, but I have to practice law first.
I have money saved. I’d really love to book a plane ticket and leave tomorrow. But that’s something of a nuclear option - it would be tantamount to cutting off all contact. It’s silly, but I’d like to have their okay. I’d like them to tell me that they can’t stop me from screwing up my own life. I’d like to them to let go, but I don’t know if there’s anything I can say that will make them agree.
Thoughts, advice?