I know I wasn’t the only kid to have a difficult childhood and my struggles pale in comparison to what others have had to go through. I am grateful for every aspect of my life and the love I feel from my family members who supported me every step of the way. I experienced a moment of weakness and allowed my insecurities to take over. I’ve since been focusing on those things in my life that allowed me to overcome. “So what” if I was the last picked for teams, if I was invited to parties as a practical joke, if being my friend for a week was a dare. I’m alive and I have too many other things to be grateful for than to allow such trivial incidents to rule my thoughts and behavior. As I look back on my life, I wanted what every other kid wanted…to fit in, to feel loved and accepted by my peers. I can’t help that I was just a little weird and misunderstood. Now that I’ve reached that frightening uncharted territory of adulthood I find myself navigating as if I know where I’m going. In reality, I’m still a scared little kid most of the time, safe in the frame and secure shell I’ve created.
I think more than fitting in, I wanted to make a difference. I know it sounds trite, but I always felt I had something special to offer the world. I wanted to make a mark and was convinced that my life had some kind of global significance. But, when I’m 35,000 ft and holding I realize that I’m just a tiny speck, moving, changing, thinking and evolving just like everyone else. It’s times like these I discover the smallest marks may have the most meaningful impact. My tiny dent in the universe, even if it impacts only one person, means that I have truly succeeded. I still feel as though I have something more to offer. I don’t imagine it being on a grand scale, but my dreams and potential have yet to be fully realized.
Ten years have passed since I graduated high school and I’m not quite sure why I remain in this limbo, tethered somewhere between uncertainty and the well-known path I could easily choose and settle into. I think my inability to settle for mediocrity stems from my unusual childhood. I wonder if other nerds experience this mental conflict. When I was young, with the help of my yuppie parents, I enrolled in every class imaginable trying to find my ‘gift’ that would set me apart. Neither them, nor I, anticipated my thirst for knowledge. My desire to succeed in everything placed in my path left me with too many options and confused as to what I should pursue. I loved music, so I learned to play the piano. Lessons began when I was five. Nothing was more beautiful to me than a ballerina. If I could dance like that I could change the world…dance classes shortly followed. My natural knack for wielding a paintbrush led to art classes. Those began as soon as I could hold a pencil and continue to this day. Dreams of being a fashion designer led to sewing class. Archeology to study the dinosaurs. Astronomy to study the stars. I was the only little girl I knew who had a NASA shrine next to her My Little Pony collection. Creative writing, Biology, Physiology, Psychology, Human Development…you name it, I studied it. After taking that journey backwards into my life, I can only wonder in bewilderment why I’m currently waiting tables at a corporate café and schlepping burgers to groups of boy scouts when I should be working on my Doctorate. When did I lose that drive? The interest and desire is still there but somehow I lack the initiative. I guess this is what happens when the realities of life take over. Money has more to do with it than I would like to admit. Commitments and sacrifice have also been factors. I must not have the passion for any of those things I was able to excel in. I really have only one passion and that centers around music and the performing arts. That’s the only thing now that feeds my thirst. If only I didn’t pick such a volatile occupation to pursue, one which could ultimately disappoint. The truth is, I don’t have to be on Broadway. I would be happy doing community theatre in Small Town, USA. But, I will never be satisfied until I try. So here I am, working my way up to 30 and still unsure of my future. But what fun would my life be if I was sure. I would rather live a grand adventure than know what each day held for me, and I still dream of being a ballerina and walking on the moon.
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