By Rama Al Mekhlafi
Mera Jalal remembers staring at her laptop screen long after midnight, lines of code blurring together as exhaustion took over. What once felt like a promising future in computer science had quickly turned into something heavier, something suffocating.
“I used to sit there for hours and feel like I understood nothing,” she said. “It wasn’t just hard, it felt like I didn’t belong there at all.”
Her grades began to slip. So did her motivation. What started as quiet doubt slowly turned into anxiety that followed her beyond the classroom, affecting her sleep, her confidence and her sense of direction. Even simple assignments felt overwhelming, and the pressure to keep up only made things worse.
For many university students, choosing a major is supposed to be the first step toward building a future. But for others, that choice is not entirely their own. Across campuses, students are navigating pressure, from family, society and even themselves, to pursue certain fields, often at the cost of their well-being.
This experience is not uncommon. According to a December 2017 report by the National Center for Education Statistics, “Beginning College Students Who Change Their Majors Within 3 Years of Enrollment,” about one-third of undergraduate students change their major at least once.
A 2019 study by Kim and Lee, published in Frontiers in Psychology, found that students whose majors were incongruent with their desired careers experienced higher levels of career distress, including career decision-related stress and listlessness.
At the University of Sharjah, this reality is shown by students like Mera. Her experience reflects a growing pattern among students who begin in demanding majors they never truly chose.
“I picked computer science because it seemed like the ‘safe’ option,” she said. “It’s what everyone told me would guarantee a good future.”
But instead of feeling secure, she felt stuck.
“I was constantly stressed,” she said. “I felt like I was failing at something I never even wanted in the first place.”
After a year of struggling, Mera made the difficult decision to switch her major to mass communication. The change, she says, was immediate, not just academically, but emotionally.
“I finally felt like myself again,” she said. “My grades improved, but more importantly, I actually looked forward to my classes.”
A similar experience unfolded for Joury Wajdy, who began her university journey in dentistry, a field often associated with prestige and stability.
“Everyone around me thought dentistry was the right path,” Joury said. “It’s respected, it’s secure, and it’s what people expect you to choose.”
At first, she tried to convince herself it was the right decision. But over time, the demands of the major and her lack of passion became impossible to ignore.
“I would sit in lectures and feel completely disconnected,” she said. “I wasn’t interested, and that made everything harder.”
The long hours, constant pressure and emotional fatigue began to take a toll.
“I felt drained all the time,” she said. “It got to the point where I questioned if I could continue at all.”
Joury eventually made the decision to leave dentistry and pursue industrial engineering. Like Mera, she describes the transition as life-changing, even though it came with uncertainty.
“It wasn’t easy to start over,” she said. “But once I made the decision, I felt relieved. I became more confident, and I actually enjoyed what I was studying.”
At the American University of Sharjah, Tasnim Alfaqi experienced a similar turning point. Initially enrolled in biology, she struggled to connect with both the content and the demands of the program.
“I kept telling myself to push through,” Tasnim said. “I thought maybe it would get better if I just tried harder.”
But it didn’t.
The pressure to continue, she explains, came from expectations, both internal and external.
“You don’t want to disappoint people,” she said. “So you stay longer than you should, even when you know something isn’t right.”
That realization, she says, was the hardest part.
“It’s scary to admit that you made the wrong choice,” she said. “It feels like you’re starting over.”
Eventually, Tasnim made the decision to switch to finance. The shift allowed her to rediscover her motivation and sense of purpose.
“I started to feel excited about my future again,” she said. “That was something I hadn’t felt in a long time.”
These stories highlight a broader issue affecting students across universities: the pressure to choose majors based on expectations rather than personal interest. While fields like computer science and medicine are often seen as secure or prestigious, they are not the right fit for everyone.
According to the experiences shared by these students, the consequences of staying in the wrong major go beyond academic performance. It can affect mental health, self-esteem and overall well-being, creating a cycle of stress that is difficult to break.
Yet, making the decision to change majors is not always easy. It involves uncertainty, the fear of judgment and, in many cases, the challenge of redefining one’s path.
“It felt like I was taking a risk,” Mera said. “But staying where I was felt worse.”
Despite the challenges, all three students describe their decisions as necessary, and ultimately empowering.
Their journeys reflect a common realization: success is not defined by choosing the right major according to others, but by choosing the right one for yourself.
“I wish I had listened to myself earlier,” Tasnim said. “But I’m glad I finally did.”
