My “Just-for-Fun Taxi Driver Degree” and Why I’m Keeping It

I always knew I wanted to work in communications. What I didn't know was that I'd have to rediscover this field again and again.

I grew up surrounded by books, stories and an early fascination for media. Studying communication science felt like the obvious choice. I picked it because I found it genuinely exciting, and for a while that was enough. Until it wasn't.

During university, and especially during the pandemic, I started doubting everything. I spent more and more time in tech- and business-focused environments, thanks to amazing student initiatives, and everyone around me seemed to have the skills that really counted. But I can't code. I can't build fancy business models. I'm not even good at Excel.

Slowly the voices from outside and the one in my own head started to sound the same. The jokes about communications being "useless." The "just for fun" you'll end up as a taxi driver with (seriously, I heard this more than enough…). At some point I didn't need anyone else to say it anymore. I said it to myself.

Just this week, I had a conversation where someone called my Master's a "fun degree". According to him (ofc it was a man), my good grades only proved that it isn’t a demanding program. He’d love to go to uni too, if it was that easy. Right after, he said he was only joking, ofc.
A few years ago, a comment like that would have completely thrown me off. I would have immediately thought: “Yeah, maybe he’s right. It’s just not good enough.” This week, I shook my head and walked out of the conversation. Whether it was really just a joke or there was a bit of truth to it for him doesn’t matter here. His opinion didn’t change anything about my degree, my grades or what I’m capable of. What counts is what a comment like that does to you. And that part is no longer up to anyone else.

For a while I seriously considered switching to something more "practical". Because I wanted to feel useful. I compared myself to people who seemed to have it all figured out and tried to become someone more technical, more business-minded, more "serious". The funny thing is, I never stopped loving communications. I still enjoyed my studies. I still caught myself analyzing headlines and campaigns in my free time. I just didn't think any of that counted.

I'm so glad I didn't switch.

What brought me back wasn't a single moment, but many small ones. Analyzing news. Observing how brands communicate. Starting discussions about current events. And working with people who showed me that communication has real, measurable impact. Slowly I understood something I had missed for years. I always wanted to do something impactful. And I was always strong in communications. I just didn't know these two could be combined. Understanding that was one thing. Actually standing by it took a lot longer. Saying out loud that this is what I want to do, without explaining or apologizing for it, is something I'm still practicing.

The thing is, the imposter feeling doesn't disappear. I'd love to say that it's gone now. It isn't. It doesn't disappear just because you realize or achieve something. It moves. It stops saying "you don't belong here" and starts saying "you didn't do it well enough." I'm still learning to look at my own work without that constant critical lens.

Looking back, I spent a long time measuring myself against skills I don't have. Only recently did I start paying attention to the ones I do. And what they actually make possible if I fully commit to them. Today I'm doing my Master's in Strategic Communication. The thing I almost gave up is the thing I'm building on. And the best thing: I didn't have to become someone else to get here, even though I sometimes got lost on the path.