Some people know their major before they even know themselves. I wasn’t one of them. I picked something practical, made peace with it, and moved on. But lately, I’ve been wondering if your college major were based on your energy instead of your report card, what would it be?
Because we all know someone who studied economics but acts like a theatre kid. Or the engineer who should’ve majored in philosophy. And maybe, just maybe, the thing we call “career mismatch” is just our personality asking for a subject change.
Funny how that happens.
You Might Have a Communications Degree in Spirit
You don’t need to have studied media or PR to be the friend everyone calls when they’ve sent a risky text. The way you translate chaos into calm, find the right words for impossible moments, and fix awkward silences that’s pure communications major energy. You’re probably great at reading rooms, making strangers feel seen, or turning long pauses into comfort zones.
And sure, you might work in finance or design or whatever pays the bills. But deep down, you understand the quiet architecture of conversation. You get that words shape how people feel. That’s not a syllabus thing. That’s an instinct.
Or Maybe You’re a Psychology Major Without the Degree
If you’ve ever said “I think he’s projecting” during a casual dinner, congratulations you’ve earned at least three uncredited semesters in psychology.
You watch people. Not creepily, but curiously. You can sense when someone’s holding something back, and you’ve learned not to push just to wait. You notice how tone shifts faster than words, how the body says what the mouth edits out.
It’s less about diagnosing and more about decoding. You’re fascinated by what drives people, even when they don’t understand it themselves. You could have been a therapist or researcher, sure, but you also know that emotional literacy doesn’t need a diploma. It just needs empathy.
The Art Major Who Forgot to Enroll
Maybe your notes look like doodles. Your playlists are a collage of moods. You find yourself rearranging your room at 2 a.m. just to feel something new. If that sounds familiar, you might have an art degree living rent-free in your soul.
You notice shadows on walls, the way coffee ripples before the first sip, the way people’s voices shift when they talk about what they love. You treat the world like an unfinished painting always adding, never done.
And no, you don’t have to be good at drawing. You just have to feel too much. That’s the only prerequisite.
Or a Business Major Who Thinks in Blueprints
Some people walk into a room and see furniture. You see potential. Systems. Flaws. Workflows. You can’t unsee how things connect or break. You make lists before feelings. You optimize grocery runs. You have spreadsheets that could probably run a small nation.
If you’ve ever restructured your day like a startup, you’ve got Business Major energy. Not the ruthless “corporate shark” kind, but the quietly strategic kind, the one that can turn chaos into order without losing their calm.
You probably love finding balance: art that sells, ideas that scale, people who perform better when seen. You’d make a great founder. Or at least an excellent team lead who remembers everyone’s coffee order.
Maybe You’re Actually an Anthropology Major in Disguise
You’ve always been the observer, the one asking why things are the way they are. You study families like they’re small civilizations, you collect accents and rituals and side-eyes. You notice how everyone in your office reacts when the boss walks in. You read group dynamics like novels.
Anthropology majors live for patterns. So do you. Maybe you travel not for selfies but for stories. You want to know what people eat for breakfast in places you’ve never been. You believe human behaviour is art, not an algorithm.
In another life, you’d be in some remote village interviewing grandmothers about their folk songs. In this one, you’re probably doing the same thing on social media just faster.
Or the Philosopher You Secretly Already Are
You think in circles, but they’re beautiful circles. You question everything: love, time, whether the idea of “purpose” is just branding for the soul. You’re the one who can turn a 10-minute conversation about breakfast into an existential crisis in a good way.
Philosophy isn’t just for the people with bookshelves full of Nietzsche. It’s for anyone who stares at the ceiling at night and thinks, Is this all there is? or What if happiness isn’t supposed to be constant?
If you’ve ever argued with yourself mid-thought or felt deeply connected to an idea that has no practical use, well welcome to the department. You’ve been enrolled all along.
The English Major You Accidentally Became
You edit your texts before sending them. You have a favourite line from a film that hits harder each year. You write captions that sound effortless but secretly take twenty minutes. You live for the rhythm of language.
You notice metaphors in everyday life, the way people talk about weather when they mean emotion, or how “I’m fine” can mean I’m tired of explaining. English majors collect meanings like souvenirs.
You might not have written a thesis, but you’ve written paragraphs in your head that nobody will ever read. That counts for something. Maybe everything.
The Science Major Who Experiments With Everything
Some people call it curiosity. You call it necessary. You test new recipes, new cities, new routines like they’re hypotheses. You love patterns, but you love breaking them more.
You look for cause and effect in your emotions, like, Did that coffee actually make me happier or am I just romanticizing productivity again? You can’t help but ask how things work whether it’s a human heart or a Bluetooth speaker.
Science energy isn’t about labs. It’s about wonder. You measure life, but you also marvel at it.
Or Maybe… You’re the Undeclared Major
You like too many things. You start projects you don’t finish, but your curiosity is a renewable resource. You’re the kind of person who can talk about space exploration, K-dramas, and budget apps in one breath.
And that’s okay. Because being “undeclared” isn’t confusion, it’s freedom. Some people find their field. Others create it.
Maybe your energy isn’t tied to one major at all. Maybe it’s an interdisciplinary masterpiece half philosophy, half psychology, sprinkled with memes and caffeine.
What Your Energy Actually Says
Your “major” is just a metaphor for how you process the world. Some of us analyze, some imagine, some build, some feel. None of us fit neatly into the subjects we studied at nineteen.
If your work doesn’t match your energy, it’s not failure, it’s translation. Maybe you learned how to survive, and now you’re learning how to belong.
We spend so much time trying to specialise that we forget the beauty of being a generalist. Of containing multitudes. Of switching majors mid-life, without the paperwork.
If this made you pause or smile, explore more playful, thought-provoking quizzes on Trendy Quiz because self-discovery should always feel fun.
