"When I grow up, I want to be..."

There comes a time in every child’s life when they turn to their parents and say the eight words that will be the beginning of an endless list of possibilities: “When I grow up, I want to be…”

“When I grow up I want to be a ballet dancer!” this was my first one and it lasted a very short period. The one time I did wear a tutu was to school, when I was 5, under a favourite dress - the material was so itchy that I spent the day scratching at my legs until one of the teacher’s helpers asked me if I needed to go to the toilet…at a young age I was thoroughly embarrassed and I’ve not worn one since.

The next choice was to be a vet. This option did last for quite some time as I was and still am, passionate about animals and their well being. So passionate in fact that I could not possibly stand seeing them suffer or be witness to any cruelty or unfortunate accident. Thus we see the option of being a vet quickly swept aside due to obvious reasons.

My grandfather once accused me of having my priorities mixed up since animals were seemingly more important to me than humans. His comment has echoed around my head for many years and I must say, it is not strictly true. But in my defense, I was brought up in Great Britain…

I had hit a bit of a plateau after the vet non-vet business and decided that maybe I should be a psychologist because people spoke to me about everything and anything - much to my horror, I might add.

So although the natural option seemed psychology, Sandra Bullock messed that up for me with Miss Congeniality. I hadn’t realized being an FBI agent was so much fun and decided I just simply had to be one! I hummed and ahhed about the two job prospects for a while – please note I was 14 going on 17…

But in the end, no amount of Sandra Bullock or chatty elderly women could top a well placed Starbucks with a wacky English friend. It was decided that I ought to be a writer. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders as I realized I had just touched upon my dream. I would spend the rest of my life fulfilling my passion and I would do everything within my power to be one of the best. No pressure there then…?!

As much as my decision still, deep within my heart, feels like the correct one, at times it feels a bit as though perhaps my passion and direction in life is too abstract; nothing to grab onto until I have made it. And why on earth would one of the world’s laziest people pick a career that would involve self-motivation? Suffice to say, in terms of getting on with ones life, training to be an FBI agent seems a lot easier sometimes.

Recently some of my closest friends have taken decisions that mean they are moving forward with their lives at warp speed! Leaving me dithering as to whether I shouldn’t in fact just become a Miss Congeniality to appear as though I am doing something productive!

For example, one of my good friends has just had a baby, (whom I might add, is the best looking new born in the world! – usually they’re born looking a bit like skinned rats are they not?) So gorgeous newborn in tow, my friend and his partner and now their baby, are on their way to being real adults in a real world and doing real life things! Whilst I decide to be one of the best… (FBI agents?)

And to top things off, another of my friends is engaged and set to be married next August! As thrilled as I am for her (and him – they’re perfect for each other), it just feels like another forced rocket up my behind to get some sort of a life into gear! I still catch myself thinking, “When I grow up, like, for real, I want to be…”

Either way, the only solution for a ‘ready made’ life, would appear for me to find a groom (apparently shop mannequins will not do), buy some kids off ebay - (I have a very small pain threshold and unsure as to whether I would be able to not produce a skinned rat-esque child) and train me to be an FBI agent! And somehow, the fact that FBI agents only dress in black does not seem like the biggest problem in this ‘ready made’ solution…

Perhaps the solution is to realize that we are all different and we all have different paths in life. Mine clearly does not involve tutu’s, vets or FBI…for now. As for wanting to be one of the best in my field, well, it is an awful lot of pressure, but then, a life without stress would be far more stressful, I think.

But I do have one thing keeping me sane, and that is my very deep rooted trust that I will not grow to be a spinster with wild hair who is surrounded by cats that chew on the tips of my withered, wrinkled fingers. And who knows, maybe my dream man-(nequin) will be an FBI agent?! Meaning I’m not too far off the mark…