I thought my parents were gonna beat my ass when I told them I was dropping out of college.

Of all places the conversation could have been had, we found ourselves out at a local steakhouse on fathers day. Yeah I know, context only makes it worse.

I had just returned from San Diego, where we had spent a week in discussions about the future of Creator Camp and our own aspirations. During this week we had decided on the next year of events and whether fortunate or unfortunate, I would have to miss a large part of the school year.

When I was in 8th grade, my dad sat me down with a list of median salaries of graduates from the local business school. I think it was supposed to be motivational in some sense. I mean a college degree at the end of the day is an investment of which you expect some sort of return in a dollar amount. God forbid the return is in knowledge itself.

But, I got his point. Growing up my dad had to do everything himself. He had to figure out how to apply to college alone, figure out which degree he would need in order to raise a proper family, and he did just that.

Growing up I was your typical spoiled, suburban-middle-class, only-child. Although only one of two asians in my entire school district, my upbringing was filled with fortune. New shoes every year, trying any sport I wanted, in some aspects my dad gave me the life he never had. I don’t think I was grateful enough then and I still think I struggle with showing the proper amount of gratitude now (but that’s a topic for another time).

So all this to say that you can imagine why I thought they were going to beat my ass when their son, in his second year at the local business school, was deciding to drop out. But deeper than my fear of letting my parents down laid fears of regret.

Fear that I was throwing away an immense level of privileges that few rarely got. Fear that I was being delusional and going to end up making a mistake that would haunt the rest of my life and relationships. Fear that no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t going to be able to complete the dreams I had set out for.

So, here’s how I made the decision.

Lets for one second hypothesize that alternate realities do indeed exist. You know, the idea that in every decision you make, you end up splitting reality into a new timeline. In this reality, there’s a world in which you decided to eat out instead of making food that one night last week. There’s also a world in which you and your ex are still together, and there’s definitely a few worlds in which you are already dead (rip).

And so, my rationale went as follows. There is an abundance of realities in which we as people are fully happy. Let’s assume for a moment that instead of monetary success, we are making decisions to optimize our own happiness. This means that there is a Simon Kim out there who lives in New York, works at an investment bank, has a family, and is extremely happy. Maybe this version of Simon likes to spend his weekends in Central Park, writing and going for a walk with the kids. This version of Simon Kim exists.