When I grow up


I want to be famous.

Just Kidding.

That is crazy, idea.  You have to be realistic and responsible. You can’t just be something you want to be.

Remember when you were young and someone said, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”…The possibilities were endless. You had no limits. If you wanted to be an astronaut and fly to Mars, you could do that.  A child never stops to think that they might not be able to follow their dreams. They just…keep dreaming.

When you grow to the very delicate age of 21 (haha), it almost seems as if all of the dreams you once cherished don’t matter half as much as having a job that pays the bills,  finishing school, finding another job that is slightly less draining to your soul then your current job, in short, trying to survive the “real world”, the “adult world” becomes a harrowing journey and dreams of growing up to be a ballet dancer or a broadway star are just a game we played when we were kids.

Well I don’t want to give up on my dreams.  I want to follow them, chase them and enjoy every minute of it. For now, I may be chained to my desk-earning my keep but that doesn’ t mean I can’t love every other crazy beautiful moment.

I went on a mini-road trip to Salisbury to see my best friend, C.  There was hours of Facebook stalking, laughing like hyenas, (ok, so maybe it wasn’t like hyenas but it was loud and ridiculous), dance parties in the bedroom to Lady Gaga, three awesome (read: the most hilarious, fun and entertaining people ever) guys from home, a mustache party and lots of drinks.   It was only one night and I had to come home the next day but I still felt a sense of relief that maybe I wasn’t drowning in a world of responsibility.

I discovered that there is spontaneity left in the world. Maybe that means that following your dreams is not a completely lost cause….

I wanted to be an artist-until I was about six and I realized I could not draw to save my life.

Imagine This:

What a pretty drawing! Is that a bird?

No, it’s my mom!

Then I discovered writing as a way to express with words those ideas that my hands just couldn’t seem to turn into pictures.  I found my passion at six years old when my mother put me in a Creative Writing class at the community college during the summer. (Yes, I voluntarily took class over the summer.)

These days when someone asks what you want to do after college, there is this pressure to say, “Well, I really love [singing, dancing, drawing, skydiving] but I’m applying for the steady, stable, financially responsible position.

No.  It doesn’t have to be that way. You can have a career that you enjoy, a life that you love…it’s not impossible. It’s just taking me a long time to accept that.

I’m not giving up hope.  Dreaming of people loving my words….may not be so crazy after all.

When I grow up I want to inspire people, delight them, enthrall them, shock them….all with my words.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

 

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