Dream girl


My dreams are sorta like a McDonald’s meal when I am really hungry. My dreams are super-sized. No, I am not talking about the dreams I have when I fall asleep even though those are incredibly insane. I am talking about the dreams I think about constantly. The dreams that represent who I want to be in this world.

As of today, graduation is 110 days away, and that thought completely boggles my mind. When I graduate it means starting over again. It means I have to find my niche and exit my comfort zone completely. Just the thought of it scares me. It scares me a lot; however, I am slowly beginning to feel excited about it.

I guess this is what growing up is all about. Stepping out of your comfort and discovering what the heck you are supposed  to do with the life God gave you. Nonetheless, despite all my fears, I like thinking about the fact that I am one small step closer to my dreams.

When I was younger, I wanted to be so many things. I wanted to be a hair stylist, a teacher, a vet, and a writer. I started my hair cutting career when I was four, and it ended when I was five as I chopped off my bangs before my cousin’s wedding. As for the vet, that dream halted once I realized that not every animal I would work on would live. Once I came to this startling revelation, I crossed it off my list.

Teacher and writer though? I always penned my own short stories. Short stories that always and I mean always involved some sort of murder. I probably shouldn’t have grown up watching Law and Order, Murder She Wrote, and CSI, but it at least provides some inkling of reason as to why a third grader would write short stories with murder as the major detail.

However, I never knew until I started my journalism class that I really did want to be a writer. I wanted to change the world with my words. So starting my sophomore year of high school, I wanted to be a teacher and a writer. I wanted to write my own novel in high school. It was my goal starting my sophomore year of high school. A goal I told no one about. With a 110 days left, though, I don’t think I’ll make it considering I never got past 50 pages with any idea I tried.

Now though, I still want to write a book one day. I know I want to be a journalist. But the thought of being a teacher always tugs at my heart. I love high school. While most teenagers loathe it, I love it. I enjoy buying school supplies every year, and when August 3 or 4 rolls around, I am always ready to go back to school. I guess that means I am a true nerd or a dorkface as some have called me. But nonetheless, I am not sure what I want to be.

Scary isn’t it? Not knowing exactly what you want to be. The important element, though, is I know who I want to be. I want to be someone who changes my world for Christ especially with my words. I want to be a light in a dark world to those who need it.  If it means writing 30 novels then yes I am up for it. Being a journalism teacher for half my life? I am up for the task no matter how hard. And if God wants me to be the next Erin Andrews, who am I to say no to that? God knows what we are going to be. It’s up to us to follow Him in order to figure it out.


3 responses »

  1. Pingback: The Murderess Emmeline « healingbetrayal

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