I'm 26 years old, going on 27, and I have no clue what I want to be when I grow up.
My first real ambition was to be Anne of Green Gables. Yup, I planned to grow up to be a white Canadian. Such lofty goals, I know. But then, I began to grow up... and wanted to be a lot of other realistic things. I mean, I obviously wasn't going to be the first figure skater to represent Nigeria in the Olympics when I didn't even try on my first pair of ice-skates until I was about 14. And I wasn't going to be a singer or actress if I was too shy (I know, right... me shy?) to actually audition for anyone. (And now, teaching has completely ruined my vocal chords... I constantly have this weird rasp in my voice even when I talk!)
But one childhood dream has yet to die. Well... maybe more than one, since I do want to get married and I still kind of want six kids. But let's focus on career dreams for today.
I still want to be a writer. And yet, most days I feel like that dream is slipping further and further away from being a reality. It began slipping away when I decided to major in journalism. It slipped even further away when I began looking for jobs in journalism. And when I worked at newspapers and magazines. And then it went even further on the back burner when I lost my job and left writing altogether.
Cause what do I do now? I teach. And while I have loved my first year (blog post to come on that later)... I know I'm not 100% fulfilled. But I have no true desire to go back into journalism. Not the rat race it has become anyway. But what's next if, and when, I get to the point where I no longer wish to teach?
A friend of mine just self-published her first book. I'm so proud of her. But I'm also super jealous (don't let my little green monster stop you from buying the book... it's worth angering it, hehe). This might be the first book she's actually releasing to the public. But she's written many others and seems to constantly be flowing with ideas. I have had a few ideas and have begun to work out something only to abandon it at some point.
Another friend (or maybe former friend, we haven't really spoken in like 8 years. But a huge part of me still sees her as one. End silly digression here.) apparently quit her job and is planning to pursue her dream of being a screenwriter. Something else I've wanted to do. There's this one particular book I've been dying to adapt and I imagine it and dream it... but have yet to actually try to do it. And let's not even get me started on all the shows I've been dying to be a writer for.
I hate them both. But truly love them. Because what do you do when dreams don't die? You pursue them. And that's what they are doing. And they just might have inspired me to do the same.
Or at least begin to let that dream live again.