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When we’re kids, we often talk about what we want to be when we are adults. Doctors, fashion designers, astronauts, they’re all part of what we’ll be when we reach that far away “adult land.” Where we are grown up and responsible, and living out our childhood dreams. There were no shortage of children’s movies that showed a young hero overcoming all the odds to become a baseball player or another sort of fantasy career.
Then we grow up. We become adults (legally, if not mentally) and many of us realize that we probably won’t be famous actresses or discover the cure for cancer. And I’m okay with that. I personally always wanted to be a popstar or a chef. I can neither sing nor cook.
I think that growing up does have its disappointments. But I decided to rebel against the idea that you grow up, and then you are there. You’re still alive, you’re still a person. There’s no reason to act as if you have nothing to aspire to, as if the present is all the potential you’ve got for this lifetime. I find that incredibly depressing.
I thought about what I would want to be in some far off fantasyland, perhaps “real adulthood.” I struggled with this a little bit, and then realized: I just want to be awesome. All kinds of awesome. I wanted to travel, I wanted to read, I wanted to quote Woody Allen movies, I wanted to make friends and rollerskate. All those things that I’ve always wanted to do? That’s my version of awesome. The best part about it is perhaps, just maybe, it will take a lifetime to get there. That sounds much better than “growing up.”
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