I wanted to be one of Santa's elves. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Elves got to build toys all day long, and they knew Santa Claus! They got to wear silly hats with jingle bells and striped tights with funny green shoes! Everything they did was filled with the joy of Christmas. Being an elf meant that you got to help Santa fulfill millions of children's wishes. What could be more cool than knowing that this teddy bear you stitched together with your own hands would be in little Johnny's stocking on Christmas morning...the teddy bear Johnny wanted more than anything in the world! As an elf, I could help children's dreams come true! And I got to live at the North Pole!
Then, one unfortunate day, the unthinkable happened.
I found out Santa Claus wasn't real. Great. Now what was I supposed to be when I grew up? Nothing else (to this day) sounds as fun as being one of Santa's elves. I considered being one of those fake elves at the mall who puts the screaming kids on the fake Santa's lap so the parents can take a picture, but that is just not the same. At all. Whatsoever.
So with the dream of being Santa's elf completely crushed, I moved on to new ideas.
I remember trying to pick something that appealed to me, but there wasn't just a whole lot that did. I did love school, though. I mean, really, who doesn't love kindergarten? My aunt is actually a kindergarten teacher, and sometimes, she would let me help her prepare for her class. Looking back, she probably gave me the easiest fool-proof jobs, but at the time, I felt like I was all grown-up. I was important. My aunt needed me to help her, and helping her was so much fun! She would always have everything pre-cut, and all of the coloring sheets and crafts were so colorful and bright! I think I probably just sorted things and cut out shapes, but it seemed important. So I decided that I could be a kindergarten teacher when I grew up. That sounds like fun, right?
As I got a little older, though, I realized that being in kindergarten was a lot more enjoyable than teaching kindergarten. Some of the kids in my class weren't even nice to the teachers! I couldn't believe it! I loved school. I loved learning new things and accomplishing tasks. I always worked extra hard so that I could get not only a 100! but also a gold star sticker. I had one teacher who wrote "Above and Beyond!" on my paper next to my grade. I was so thrilled that my goal for the rest of the year was to get back papers with "Above and Beyond!" on them in red ink. Yes, I was that student you hated. Unless you were like me (I haven't met many people like me, though). Teachers typically loved me, students...not so much. Anyway, when I realized that most kids hated school, I thought that teaching them might not be so fun. I was also pretty shy as a child, and the thought of standing in front of a classroom full of people all day long and trying to get them to pay attention sounded a bit terrifying.
What else could I be when I grew up?
When I was in fourth grade, I went over to my friend's house, and we watched The Wedding Planner. A wedding planner! Before I saw that movie, I just assumed every girl planned her own wedding. Why wouldn't you? I've been dreaming up wedding ideas ever since I knew what a wedding was. I had no idea there were people out there who got paid to plan weddings! That's got to be the most exciting, fun, happy job ever! You get to pick out flowers and dresses and churches and napkins and linens and cakes and music and colors and the list goes on and on! Weddings are my favorite special occasion. They're just so...so...happy. I grew up reading fairy tales and watching Disney princess movies over and over again. The stories all ended with a handsome prince marrying a beautiful princess, and of course, "They lived happily ever after." If I became a wedding planner, I could help girls' dreams come true, and their wedding day could be everything they dreamed it would be. And I would get to see the modern day prince and princess drive off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
Did I mention I'm a hopeless romantic? Because I am. I still believe in happy endings, and I always will. Don't even try to squelch my endless optimism. You'll only succeed in making yourself tired and frustrated. Either that or I'll succeed, and you'll find yourself believing in happy endings, too.
Eventually, I decided being a wedding planner probably wasn't all that realistic. I can plan my own wedding someday, but weddings are somewhat stressful and there are quite a few "bridezillas" out there. Plus, I didn't even know if there were wedding planners in my small-ish west Texas hometown. To this day, I have never met one.
My wedding planner dream slowly transformed into a dream of owning a bridal shop or a cake decorating shop or a flower shop. Then I thought it would be fun to own a bookstore/coffee shop. Somewhere along the line, I ended up in junior high (probably circa the bookstore idea). The bookstore idea didn't seem too realistic, though. Even in one of my favorite romantic comedies, You've Got Mail, the small bookstore owner is forced to give up her store when the evil FOX Books moves in around the corner. If a girl's dreams don't come true in a chick flick, I seriously doubt they would in real life. Only in west Texas if I opened a bookstore, Barnes and Noble would make me go bankrupt, not FOX Books.
I toyed with the idea of writing books, especially children's books. I'm a bit young at heart, if you haven't noticed. I thought about working as a publisher or book editor or magazine editor. I considered all sorts of careers.
Actually, in junior high, I was in varsity choir and showchoir. I took voice lessons, and I really wished I could sing. I could sing good enough to be in a junior high choir, but that doesn't say much. I never wanted to be a singer, but I did have a small dream of being in a choir in college. (I never did try out in college; I'm not sure why). I played volleyball in junior high and high school, and for a while, I even considered becoming a volleyball coach. In the end, though, I decided I liked to sing in church and play volleyball for fun.
I can't even remember all the things I wanted to be when I "grew up." I did find an amusing list in one of my old journals, though. On June 12, 2004 (at the age of fourteen), I wrote the following:
"What do I want to do with my life? Good question. I change my mind every week. My list currently consists of: editor of children's books or magazines, English teacher, wedding planner, event planner, interior decorator, something with computers, florist, housewife, vet, tutor, photographer, journalist, weatherman, astronomer...I'll think of another one next week, I'm sure."
Could I be any more indecisive? I should add that I squeezed a couple of those careers into the margins as I thought of more ideas while I was writing that day.
I began high school a couple months later, and my dreams began to change. Correction, I'm not sure my dreams changed. I think I changed. Or maybe I was changed by the overall pressure of high school. High school was filled with teachers who constantly told us to think about what we wanted to do with the rest of our lives. The rest of my life! I was only fifteen! Five years later, I'm still saying, "I'm only twenty!" I decided to start looking for "realistic" careers.
I liked chemistry, so I considered being a pharmacist. I had worked in the school library in junior high and high school, so I considered being a librarian.
I had a love/hate relationship with English. Oftentimes, English was filled with silly, creative art projects that didn't really help anybody understand literature any better. I am a creative perfectionist, and art projects in English were a form of torture I did not understand. Even so, I loved reading the books and analyzing the literature. I spent hours on my papers, always working and revising until I knew I had done my best. My English teacher during my junior year actually told me he thought I would be an amazing English teacher. He even suggested I go to grad school and become a professor at a junior college. I was very tempted by the idea. But if I got a degree in English, all I could do was teach (or so I was told).
I took a couple of computer science classes in high school as well. I really enjoyed the web design and programming, but I knew I wasn't exactly a computer genius. For a while, I considered majoring in computer science and web design.
As the time came for me to apply to colleges, I knew where I wanted to go to school, but I didn't know what I wanted my major to be. I don't remember exactly when, but at some point in the spring of my senior year, I decided to major in mathematics. I was thrilled to major in math, actually. I had never considered majoring in math before, but I had always done well in the subject. As a matter of fact, I had started to really enjoy my calculus class. Strange as it may be, I just liked solving the problems. I liked having a challenge.
I decided a bachelor's degree in mathematics would be a great degree for me to have, no matter what I decided to be "when I grew up." I could go to grad school in just about any subject with a math degree: medicine, law, engineering, business, finance, education...anything really.
Plus, if I decided I didn't want to do grad school, I figured I could teach high school math or find a random job in a business somewhere and just work my way up. Another option that came to mind was doing grad school in math and becoming a math professor.
So I went to college. I am in college right now. I will be in college until this May. I am graduating in three years. I did not change my major, so I will be receiving a diploma which states that I have a B.A. in Mathematics. I do math all the time. I actually work as a math tutor whenever I have the time, and I enjoy tutoring quite a bit. This is actually quite comical, though. "Why is this comical?" you may ask. I'll tell you why. Do you remember that journal entry I wrote when I was fourteen? A couple lines down from my list of potential careers, I wrote a list of things I did NOT want to do. Among the rejected jobs is: "nothing where you do math all day." I'm doing exactly what I said I didn't want to do.
Did I choose math just because it seemed practical? Maybe. Have I changed that much in such a short amount of time? I suppose so.
Even so, I haven't changed that much. Every time I had a chance to pick an elective, I took an English class. I discovered a couple months ago that I will most likely be graduating with a minor in English. I took that many classes for fun. I love English.
I love math. I love English.
These two do not go together very well.
I'm graduating in May. What am I supposed to do in June? Go to work? Maybe. Go to grad school? Possibly. If I go to grad school, what am I going to study? I have no idea. I have about ten options at the moment, and I do not have a clue what to do or which path to take.
During my three years of college, I have worked as a math tutor, a writing consultant, a chem lab assistant, and a CAD operator at an engineering firm. I'm also Student Senate Secretary.
In some ways, I haven't changed much since I was fourteen. I like a little bit of everything, and I still am not too sure what I want to be when I grow up. In other ways, I am a completely different person. I have different hopes and different dreams, and I have grown tremendously in many ways.
I find myself, now, at a crossroads. I have countless paths to choose from, but I'm a bit too scared to take a step in any one direction. I feel like I'm living out Robert Frost's famous poem, "The Road Not Taken."
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden back.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I feel as if I'm standing at the place where two roads diverge into a yellow wood. Which road should I take? The one that is worn...or the one less traveled by? Whichever path I take, I know Frost's words are true. My choice will make all the difference.
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