From Doubt to Diploma: Redefining Success After 30 as a First-Generation Student

When I decided to get my business degree after turning 30 years old, I felt both proud and terrified. When applying I wasn't just wanting to go to some local community college, I wanted to go to a well-known school who had a great reputation when it came to the degree I was looking to receive, during the process I would have thoughts of "I'm 30, who is going to want me into their university?" "How will I make the most of my time, can I make time being a mom who is trying to find her niche in the business world?" I would then say, "yes, I can do this, you need to do this for yourself, kids, and business. This is your time!"

After some time would pass I got a few acceptances and a few rejections which let me tell you, hit me hard. I wasn't a failure it just wasn't for me. I then had to choose my university one that made sense but that was also hard. I ended up choosing my university, and I attended my first semester virtually it was a lot. I started as a fulltime student with 15 credit hours. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, after all I was a first-generation student. I had my mom who went to a community college part-time as an adult but did not finish and this was something I was doing that was a bit different as it was virtual and I was going full time.

I truly didn't know where to turn to get certain questions answered, how to manage my time, or even how to schedule classes accordingly. This led me to learn a lot of lessons within that semester, which I couldn't have gotten through if I did not join clubs and one of the ones I joined was the First-Gen Infinity Group, that group saved me, supported me, and guided me as a first-year student. After that I knew I wanted to be more involved within the university and find my group of people.

Being a first-generation student isn't just about getting a degree. It's about rewriting a family story. It's about carrying dreams of those who never had the chance to chase theirs. Every late-night paper, every moment of doubt, feels like a small act of rebellion, a reminder that breaking generational barriers doesn't always look glamours, but it's sacred work.

Going back to school as a mom, a small business owner, and as a woman rediscovering her purpose and self-worth has been humbling, because education at its core isn't about age, it's about an awakening. Regardless of how many years it takes, I'm determined to finish what I started. This isn't just to say this has all been a breeze, I used to think that going back to school not only as an adult but as mom would be empowering, like the world would see my determination and cheer me on. The truth is most days it was messy, emotional, and sometimes just plain hard.

There were nights I would sit on my bed with the laptop glowing in the dark, tears flowing down my face between paragraphs, I wasn't crying because I didn't want it, I was crying because I did. I wanted this so badly. I wanted to make my family proud, to show my kids that dreams don't expire, to rewrite the story for the little girl who once thought college wasn't meant for people like her.

But wanting something and doing it are two very different things.

Between prepping for exams, memorizing speeches, writing papers, and meeting deadlines, I was also helping with homework, showing up for school sports, and trying to be present for my kids even when my mind was still in the textbook, I had to finish that night. The guilt came in waves. When I studied, I felt like I was neglecting them. When I chose them, I fell behind on schoolwork. There was never a perfect balance, just a constant tug of war between who I was for them and who I was trying to become for myself.

And then there was everything else - the dog that needed a walk, the dishes that never ended, the laundry that refused to fold itself, the exhaustion that crept in no matter how early I went to bed. Somewhere in all of it, I started to lose track of me.

I missed quiet mornings. I missed the luxury of slowing down. I missed the version of myself that wasn't always racing the clock.

But here's the thing I've learned through all those tears and late nights: growth rarely feels peaceful while it's happening. Sometimes it feels like falling apart. Sometimes it looks like sobbing at your desk, whispering " I can't do this", and then doing it anyway.

Again, being a first-generation student isn't just about chasing a degree, it's about carrying an invisible weight. it's the pressure of being the first to navigate financial aid, scholarships, the first to sit within a virtual setting, sometimes feeling like you don't belong. It's pride and pressure woven together.

There were moments I wanted to quit. Times when exhaustion made the goal seem so far away, and those negative voices trying to make me think I'm too old or too behind to keep going. But then at my child's game watching those eyes look at me for validation that they are doing okay and to see the smile when I cheer them on or when we would sit together to do homework was enough to keep me going and showed me that they're watching.

They saw me cry, they saw me study, they saw me fail a quiz and try again. I know that one day they will view this as a reminder that persistence matters more than perfection. Somewhere in the chaos, I learned to redefine success. It was about showing up, even tired, scared, and even when I was doubting myself, it was knowing I was doing the best I could with what I had that day, it was about letting grace fill the gaps where balance couldn't.

Now, when looking back at those nights I cried, I don't see weakness anymore. I see a woman who refused to give up. I see resilience in the small, quiet moments, the ones no one clapped for, but that changed everything. I am grateful for this experience, and I thank God because without him I wouldn't have been able to come this far.

I'm still figuring it all out, I'm still learning how to take time for myself without feeling guilty for it. I'm still walking the line between mom life, student life, and the rare moment I get to just be me. I understand that strength isn't about having it all together, but to choose to keep going. I think that is what this whole journey is about, not chasing perfection but honoring the process. Because being a first-generation student, mother, business owner and a woman finding her way isn't just a chapter in my story, its proof that it's never too late to become who you are meant to be.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. - Galatians 6:9