Growing up, my parents made sure I understood the difference between a future job and a future career. A career was not optional. The plan was clear. Finish high school and get into a good college. Then I would be off to graduate school before beginning my career.

Now, as a JD/MBA student at the University of Michigan, I spend a lot of time reflecting on how that early framework, meant to guarantee career security, ultimately led me down a longer, more winding path to what I always wanted – which was to go to business school.

A mentor once told me that when it came to choosing a career, there would come a time when I’d have to decide between being safe and being brave. Safe meant choosing a major that led to guaranteed and financially stable post-grad options. Safe was predictable but ideal.

Brave meant risking that stability to pursue the option where I am truly passionate. As a kid, that would’ve been being an actor or singer.

A DREAM DEFERRED

From the time my sister and I could stand, my mom had us enrolled in every lesson she could spare so we could find our passions. First, it was ballet. Then, it was ice skating, dance, music lessons, improv, screenwriting and anything else that came up as an interest. I got my first job at 16 just to pay for acting school in Manhattan, traveling 45 minutes each way every Sunday on the Metro North to chase a dream I wasn’t sure was realistic…but couldn’t quite let go of. Eventually, when the time came to choose a major in college, I was stuck between video production and biomedical engineering. It was my first battle between being brave and being safe.

I chose to enroll undecided. Bad choice. No major meant no scholarship, and no scholarship meant I had to take a leave of absence. That detour ended up shaping everything that followed.

At first, it felt like a setback. I worked for two years in various positions in the service industry, without the thought of school as a near future goal. But even without a solid plan, those years taught me how to manage uncertainty and be adaptable. They were also when I started thinking more critically about what I kind of life I wanted to build, not just the title I wanted to hold.

Eventually, my mom gave me an ultimatum to return to school or start contributing to my bills. I tried to re-enroll, but missed the deadline by a few days for that year. So, I looked to Google for schools with rolling admissions. There, I found a university 45 minutes outside of Dallas in a college town known for its art scene.

THE ROAD TO LAW SCHOOL

Two weeks later, I was accepted and applying for apartments. At orientation, I faced the same decision I’d avoided before: choosing a major.

Med school was officially off the table. So, I started thinking seriously again about being a lawyer, something my parents had always said I’d be good at. Law felt like the safest version of brave. I was up-to-date on all the Law and Order episodes and I did like to argue. It also offered the structured and stable path I had to continue on. And it meant I could major in anything.

I planned to declare political science, but someone made a pitch about the university’s elite journalism program. It was hard not to notice that a surprising number of scholarships went unclaimed each year. I’d always loved writing, and this was a way to pursue something creative while remaining practical.

Broadcast journalism turned out to be the perfect blend of safe and brave. I found my voice, worked on my writing, and learned how to be a professional level communicator. These were all skills that served me well when I eventually made it to Ann Arbor to join Michigan Law. The plan had worked. Now, I just needed to do well in law school, pass the bar, and become a lawyer.

LEARNING FROM MY FATHER’S EXAMPLE

Here’s what I hadn’t realized: pursuing the law school path with the well-paying job at the end had paused the brave version of my story. The one where I allowed myself to be more than just practical and give myself room to imagine more creative possibilities within the profession I chose to pursue.

That space opened up unexpectedly during my second year of law school when my dad had a stroke. One of the first things I had to take care of after my dad didn’t wake up was closing his new auto shop. It was the first time I’d ever seen it. He’d only just made the dream official, printed business cards, signed the lease, and brought in his regulars. It was something he’d wanted for decades, and he’d finally done it. Still, I was the one calling customers to pick up their cars and turn off the lights for the last time.

That moment made me confront the part of myself that, like him, kept waiting for the perfect time to pursue a dream that was never going to stop calling.

Business school was not a new idea. I’d considered it since high school and college. It became a passing thought during law school after a few conversations with JD/MBAs planning on Big Law post-grad like me. Suddenly, the timing made sense in a way it never had before. I realized I didn’t want to just practice law. I want to practice law. But I didn’t want to just practice law.

THE BOLD CHOICE

Business school wasn’t about checking another box before I could be a successful lawyer. It was about building the skills and mindset I’d needed to bring my ideas to life. It was about honoring the part of me that still wanted to write a novel, open a production studio, or run a restaurant. It was about giving that creative part of me a real shot, not a someday shot. It was about finally choosing the brave path.

So, I applied to Ross.

Since starting the MBA, my world has expanded in ways I didn’t expect. I studied global business practices in Germany. I traveled to Colombia, Ireland, Portugal, and the UK – and even went skiing in Colorado for the first time. I networked with founders and classmates who speak in finance terms and take way more professional risks than the average law student. I’ve had hard conversations in rooms I wouldn’t have stepped into before, mostly because I wouldn’t have known that was an option.

I’ve learned that the difference between where I was and where I want to be isn’t ability: it’s mindset. It’s knowing when to hit send. And maybe more than anything, it’s letting myself believe in a version of my life where I’m not just going through the motions of being an attorney but constantly creating something new. To that end, I’ve also started writing for real again.

I’m finishing my first novel, a story about AI and the legal world, a near-future legal thriller where the first robot prosecutor defies its programming in pursuit of justice, forcing the nation to confront what it means to be alive and what it costs to be brave. I’m also pursuing an independent study on the modern publishing industry. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for my real life to begin. I’m in it. The brave choice didn’t erase the grief, or the struggle, or the questions. But it brought me back to myself. And it gave me a new way forward.

I still think about my dad’s shop sometimes – about my dad’s name on the building and the business cards on the desk. Even the bathroom inside. It’s just a bathroom. But it was his bathroom. And now, when I think about all the things I used to write in my mini-idea journal – all the business pitches I’d run by him just to see his reaction – I wonder what he would’ve said if he knew I was finally going for it.

‘BREEZY, YOU’RE THRIVING’

Here at Ross, I’ve learned so much from my peers. But lately I’ve been asking, “What have they been learning from me? Have I really been showing up or just going through the motions?”

A few months ago, during my study abroad program in Germany, a classmate turned to me and said, “Breezy, you’re thriving!” And I had to stop and think to myself, “He’s so right!” I hadn’t felt that kind of excitement from meeting new people, being seen, and connecting with life again in what felt like a really long time. My business school classmates hadn’t seen that side of me before. It is the version that lights up, that loves engaging with people, that believes in every possibility. And it made me pause. If this is what thriving feels like, how do I hold onto that when I go home?

Coming to business school was never about leaving law behind. I’m excited to join the tax group at a big law firm after graduation. It’s work I care deeply about. But I know that without this experience having given me the space to ask hard questions of myself and imagine new answers, I might have burned out in six months of starting work. Maybe I wouldn’t have even passed the bar. Business school gave me room to heal. It reminded me that it’s okay to have an unstructured dream. And that my creativity is an asset, not a distraction. There’s no shame in building a life that doesn’t fit neatly into a prebuilt box.

The safe path got me here. It gave me the resources and the strength I’ve relied on. But it’s the brave path, the one I almost talked myself out of, that’s taking me where I’m meant to go now.

So, if you’re like I was two years ago – standing at the edge of a path-defining decision, between thinking about the plan and taking the action, or between weighing what makes sense and that idea you just can’t let you go of – I hope you’ll choose the brave path too. Whatever that looks like for you.

Not someday. Now.

Born and raised in the city that never sleeps, Breezy has always straddled two worlds. Law and business on one side, storytelling on the other. She earned her B.A. and Master’s in Journalism from the University of North Texas before heading to Michigan for her JD/MBA. At the Law School, she served on the boards of the Student Senate, Black Law Students Association, Mock Trial, and the Organization for Public Interest Students. At Ross, she’s on the board of Business Leaders for Diverse Abilities and takes part in Ross Leaders Academy and Zell Lurie Institute programming. Outside the classroom, Breezy is pursuing an independent study on the modern publishing industry while finishing her first novel, a story that asks what happens when AI collides with the legal world. Wondering how a JD/MBA balances casebooks and networking with world-building? She’ll be sharing the twists, turns, and behind-the-scenes of her creative process this year at her Substack.

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