i was supposed to be a doctor.

and why i decided that life wasn't for me.

Hey, that’s me!

Reading has always been a fundamental part of my identity. I have fond memories of spending my days reading any book I could get my hands on: Junie B. Jones, Nancy Drew, Harry Potter, Heidi, Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, Little House on the Prairie, and so many more.

As I think back on those times, I’m filled with a yearning that has nothing to do with the environment I grew up in, but rather the feelings I associate with those specific books. I didn’t grow up with an idyllic childhood. My parents were volatile and emotionally unavailable. My older siblings were both ten years older than I was; two older teenagers did not want to spend their time with a little six year-old. I didn’t have any pets and my mom was far too distrusting to let me over to anyone’s houses. So spending my time alone with my books became commonplace in my life.

And I loved my books. I loved them so much. They were all I had. The worlds, the characters, the experiences I never got to live for myself: they were all here, right in my hands. I would imagine being there on a solitary house on a prairie, thinking how nice it would be to have a house like that to call my own. I would follow along with Anne’s story and kick my feet happily when I got to the part where she married Gilbert. In a world with endless debates about which March sister is better, where people would pit Jo and Amy against one another, I loved them both in their own ways.

My books gave me a sense of freedom that I never truly got to experience until much later in my life.

As you may be able to tell, I always loved to read, so naturally, this led to me having an impressive vocabulary at a young age. My teachers told me I was the best reader in the class. Later, this led me to receiving the “gifted student” classification, which meant my math and English skills were the best in the class.

I enjoyed this. Reading gave me valuable skills. It made me a bit prideful, as people would associate my name, Daniela Alvarez, with the smartest kid in the class. And to receive this level of recognition and admiration at school meant a lot, especially when my home life was broken and embarrassing to talk about.

Throughout elementary school, middle school, and high school, I was the smart kid. I did not receive a B once during this time. And with an academic trajectory like that, people start expecting the best of you. My family absolutely did. I was supposed to be the doctor of the family. I was supposed to be the one who went to the best schools and got the best job. I was supposed to be the one who made it, in every sense of the word.

In 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I received my acceptance into the University of California, Los Angeles. A dream school. The school with a beautiful campus with minds as brilliant and creative as you can imagine.

This was a turning point in my life, but not for the reasons you may think. If you asked my parents, this was the moment where I decided to derail my life and forgo any ambitions of being the doctor I was “supposed” to become.

But for me, this was the time where I uncovered the life I was always meant to have. The life I envisioned for myself while reading Anne of Green Gables, Heidi, and Little House on the Prairie. The kind of life that I always wanted. I knew, deep down in my soul, that if I didn’t get this life, I would feel empty and without a purpose.

And now that I have it, I know that I made the right choice for myself. My heart always knew that this was for me.

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From Brainiac to Married at 20

I love telling people how my husband and I met.

It was during the pandemic, when we weren’t allowed to meet for in-person classes, so lectures had to be held over live Zoom sessions. And I remember how my husband was one of many students, cracking jokes in the class chat section that was much more fun to pay attention to than the actual lecture.

His comment caught my eye, so I direct-messaged him, telling him I thought that he was funny. Then, we exchanged numbers. And from there, our relationship was off to the races.

I had to lie to my mom and tell her I needed to go to campus for study groups in order to see him. I didn’t want to fumble this. My husband was (and is) the cutest, smartest, most interesting person I had met in a long time, and he was interested in me, so I was going to fight tooth and nail to stay with this man.

So much so, that I saved up my money and moved out of my mom’s home at 19, settling into an over-priced, janky apartment right next to UCLA with three other girls. In retrospect, the main driving force behind this decision is my deep desire to spend as much time as possible with my husband, free of obstacles and the nagging guilt of always lying to my mother about my whereabouts.

This also coincided with my husband and I’s decision to research and attend Divine Liturgy at a Greek Orthodox Church near downtown LA. We converted and got baptized together. It was becoming increasingly clear to everyone around us that we were going to get married. We knew it, too. It wasn’t a matter of if, but a matter of when.

And this made me very happy. Since I was young, I had a feeling I was going to get married young, and that wasn’t daunting at all. I wanted that for myself, even while everyone around me was telling me how I was destined to go to a great school and become a distinguished doctor.

When it finally happened, when my husband kneeled down and proposed to me at the end of a long hiking trip in the middle of the Santa Monica Mountains, I was ecstatic. Thrilled. Amazed that I was going to be getting what I had always dreamed of, since I was a little girl.

And my family responded with less than enthusiasm.

“What about school? What about your career? Are you going to drop-out? What about medical school? Are you sure? You’re still so young, why do you want to get married? What about school? Are you going to have kids? You know you can’t continue school and have kids, right? What about school?”

“What about your career?!”

I guess I can understand where they’re coming from. If I told them the truth that I wanted to get married young, they would have lost their minds. Like I said, I was supposed to be the one who made it. And funnily enough, they didn’t see marriage as something to celebrate. In fact, my mother saw it as a way to tie a woman down and trap her in place. Unfortunately, my own father is the reason why she has such poisoned views on marriage as a whole. She didn’t want that life for herself, and she certainly didn’t want that life for me.

Fortunately, my husband is nothing like my father.

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Would I Have It Any Other Way? No.

I got pregnant soon after the wedding. Even though I had the option of delaying my college classes, I decided to go for it and try to finish what I could. My son was born on the first day of my senior year and I got to graduate alongside my husband in June 2024.

And it was so difficult. So so difficult. I worked online, I completed my schoolwork, and I raised my newborn baby (mostly by myself since my husband had to work and go to school in-person). I’m not sure I would recommend this sort of lifestyle to anyone reading, I just have a penchant for making life a bit more difficult than it needs to be (for example, I took 5 AP classes in my high school senior year. I had multiple teachers check in with me, asking “are you sure you want to do this?” and I’m kind of feral so I said of course I want to do this! Graduated HS with a 4.8 weighted GPA as a result.)

But all in all, I wouldn’t have this any other way. I love my life, I love my husband, I love my son, and I love the life we’re building for ourselves.

I work hard to provide for my family and I work hard to make sure my son has a better childhood than I got to have.

And I don’t care that I gave up a potential career in healthcare. I didn’t want it that much anyway. I didn’t see myself forgoing a husband and children until my mid-30s, so why in the world would medical school make sense for me?

There are some people my age who want to guilt me into thinking I made the wrong choice. I married too young, I had a child too young, my life is basically over.

When in reality, I’ve never been happier.

At the same time, I want to stress that I don’t judge or condemn women for pursuing high-powered careers. Not at all. It’s admirable to get a degree, and it’s even more admirable to pursue a career if this is what you want for yourself.

Years ago when I was a teenager, I considered the thought of not having children and not getting married. I really, really tried to envision a life where I had neither. And I worried myself into a panic attack. I just couldn’t imagine a life for myself where I wasn’t a mother and wife. It just didn’t feel right, which is why I knew I was making the right choice in marrying and having a child young.

This was the right choice for me and I’m not going to accept passive-aggressive attempts to tear me or other women like me down for choosing a life that is right for us.

Now, I’m off to re-read Anne of Green Gables and Little Women. While we’re all here, send me some classic literature recommendations, I’d love to expand my reading list!