When I Grow Up...

... I Want To Do, Not Be

Image: Girl At Writing Desk, Frederick Carl Frieseke

Courtesy of Artvee

When I was a child, what I wanted to be when I grew up changed on a yearly basis… I went from wanting to become a singer, to believing that being a teacher was my calling, to being fascinated by the pretty cashiers in the shops my mum always took me to and wanting to work in retail, to dreaming of becoming a solicitor (Thank you, Ally McBeal!), to fantasies of becoming a famous novelist, to becoming obsessed with studying to be an art historian, a journalist, a fashion critic – the list goes on and on! Many of those ideas I look back on today and can’t help but smile, but I also must admit that each of those early career objectives to this day reflect a part of who I am, what I love, and what I‘m passionate about. I am an avid music fan (but lack any real musical talent so that becoming a singer was definitely no more than wishful thinking), I appreciate the exchange and sharing of knowledge to a great extent, I love a good shopping experience and respect the people who work to realise it, I am fanatical about fairness and justice, I can’t put into words the impact art in all its forms has on my life, I am extremely critical and pride myself on being well-informed, I am an absolute fashion fiend, and to this day, writing is the most cathartic, therapeutical activity there is for me (and some say, I’m pretty good at it)… The dream of becoming a writer was actually the career goal that stuck through all the years, the one that continuously triggered this sense of excitement, achievability, and knowing that it’s what’s meant to be for me. I wrote throughout my childhood, youth, and even as an adult… But I ended up making a living working in a corporate job that managed to drain the life out of me by the time I had reached my mid-30s. When I finally grew up, year for year, I watched my dream(s) die…

A little over a year ago, after enduring multiple complicated illnesses as well as a lengthy and painful recovery from injuries I sustained in a car accident, I finally followed the call to resign from the job that felt like a prison and leave my home country indefinitely. Years of feeling trapped in a life that didn’t align with my values and true self had induced a numbness inside that I sought to relieve by allowing myself to be reminded of and indulging in the things that lit me up and made me feel alive. I attempted to resuscitate the dreams I had watched die over the years and began writing again. While it provided an outlet and I was so proud of what I wrote that I even felt called to share it (hence, why I starting using a space here on Substack), I soon felt doubt set in again – that little voice in the back of my mind that whispered to me when I permitted myself to dream big and trust in my talent, telling me to be realistic and to focus on setting sustainable (career) goals for myself because it’s presumptious to believe I could really be a writer. That little voice in combination with the time and effort I was putting into the new vocational and personal aspirations I harboured (which included relocating permanently) thwarted my attempts to awaken my dreams back to life and I pretty much let them fall into a coma once more… I couldn‘t be everything I wanted to be and unfortunately, life is about prioritising and sacrificing.

A couple of weeks ago though, I came across a quote from the British entertainer, Stephen Fry, that I found years ago, had saved in my journal, but had forgotten about. In this quote, Stephen Fry himself references something Oscar Wilde once said: “(…) If you know what you want to be, then you inevitably become it – that is your punishment, but if you never know, then you can be anything. There is a truth to that. We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing – an actor, a writer – I am a person who does things – I write, I act – and I never know what I am going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun”… It was ironic that this quote popped up for me anew after all this time because the idea of starting to write again had begun to tug at my soul once more… I also gained subscribers out of nowhere here on Substack, which surprised me since I hadn’t really proven consistent with publishing content... I took both as a sign to just do it… And take Stephen Fry’s/Oscar Wilde’s advice... I will no longer make it my aim to “be” a certain thing, but to do what it is I want to do – what brings me joy, what sparks a light within me – and that does encompass the other, more conventional ambitions I have been working to achieve and intend to accomplish, but I choose to no longer define myself and my path in such definite terms. I’ve come to the realisation that “when I grow up”, I don’t want to primarily be something, I want to do – and most importantly, not worry so much about the outcome of what I’m doing and instead, let the amount of fun I’m having and the positive energy it evokes be the means by which I measure my success! I truly believe that if we let ourselves flow and evolve in a natural way and be carried and motivated by our passions as we do so, triumph is inevitable!

So… These are my stories – some personal, some purely observational, some witty, some sullen, all from the heart… May they serve and/or inspire anyone who chooses to read them!

See you soon ♥️