Grow Up?

When they asked me, when I was little, what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d say one of a few things.

A princess. (I was sure I was adopted from royalty and would one day be re-discovered.)

A dog trainer.

A hip hop dancer.

A hip hop dancer/dog trainer. (Part time at each I suppose)

And when I was in elementary school: a lawyer or teacher.

At some point I remember wanting to be famous, like a rock star or actor or something, but I’m none of these things, and I’m, apparently “grown up.”

I don’t know what I want to be anymore.  I don’t want to be a laywer, I’ve had trouble training my own dog.  I can’t decide on being a teacher I’ve umm-ed and arh-ed over this for many years.

My hip hop dancing days are over, I’ve appeared to of lost my grove, and I’m pretty darn sure there isn’t a royal house searching for their long lost heiress.

A famous actor? I think I’ve passed/passing that age. Famous rock star? Ditto. Plus I’m not a great singer anyway.

I would love to make a strong living being paid for something creative. Writing, photography, some other art form or expression, but everyone wishes that and that’s not enough; just to wish it.

So I’m trying to find the passion I used to have as a little kid.

I’m trying to figure out what I would jump to answer if you sat me down, gave me a crayon and a piece of paper and asked me to draw you what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Or, you know, from now on.