“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I will not grow up. I won’t. Never. Ever. When you grow up, you lose the dreamlike wonder that’s inherent in children; you lose the innocence of seeing the world without any inhibitions or expectations. In a perfect world, we would never have to grow up.
When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a dog. Seriously. Or maybe a cat. I thought how awesome it would be to be covered in fur, to be petted and loved and be able to run really really fast. As I got older, I realized that, alas, I could never be a cat or a dog.
Once I realized that being an animal was out of the question, I wanted to be a jockey. I was one of those little girls who loved horses, and the only thing I thought you had to do to be a jockey was sit on a horse and let him run really fast. That dream was fleeting too…because you also have to be really really short to be a jockey, and while I might not be very tall, by 11 I was already too tall to be a jockey.
In my high school yearbook, I said I wanted to be a writer and a horse trainer. The horse trainer thing will never come to pass. The writer, on the other hand; well, I’m already one of those. The only thing you have to do to be a writer is write, and I do that all the time. Words are my favorite way to express myself.
What I want to be when I grow up is a work in progress and probably always will be. I have strange interests and quirky humor, nerdy style and really odd ways of seeing the world. I spent a lot of years wondering why I couldn’t just be “normal” or be just like everyone else, why the things that interested me were so different from what interested most of the people around me.
I used to spend so much time trying to “fit in” and to “make” myself do or like things that the people around me did or liked, and you know what I learned? It made me uncomfortable, it made me feel out of place and awkward; and the older I got, the less I wanted to feel that way.
I’ll tell you a secret.
You know what I really want to be when I grow up?