August 29, 2012

{me, age 8}

Once I wanted to be an artist-veterinarian-actress who traveled the world and recorded it all in a thick sketchbook, and saved hurting animals, and made people laugh like crazy.

Once I wanted to be tan and blonde and friends with the popular girls who flirted with older boys and had wild parties while their parents were out of town.

Once I wanted to be a horse whisperer who spent everyday in the center of a circular pen as flashes of mane and hooves swirled around me, soaking in the smell of sweat and sawdust.

Once I wanted to be a folk singer who told stories and played open mic nights in hazy barrooms and yellow-lit coffee shops across the country.

Once I wanted to be the owner of a little seaside antique shop and cafe with a big patio in the back where people could bring their dogs and order from a chalkboard menu.

Once I wanted to be a photo-journalist who documented the lives of people in faraway places and told stories of hope and injustice that inspired action in others. 

. . .

But now I own a condo in a city that isn't my home and can never find anything to wear.

But now I have a degree in a subject I love and a license for a career I can't seem to start.

But now I have two dogs and a cat who follow me everywhere and sleep on my toes.

But now I can't stop daydreaming about places I have never been.

But now I write my thoughts on a computer screen while staring at treetops through narrow windows.

But now I share my life with the one person I couldn't live without.

. . .

What did you once want to be? 

But now what do you do?


1 comment:

  1. I love this.
    This is my edited version:
    I once wanted to be an artist-pianist-writer-actress-traveler.
    I now am a desk-jockey-secret-writer-artist-dreamer-wife-of-my-greatest-love.
    Not perfect, but not too bad, either.


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