#106 What do you want to be when you grow up?

What do you want to be when you grow up? Sometimes I think this is the most difficult question life throws at us. There are so many things to be or do out there, and no way to experience them all, or even be aware of them all before you are forced to make a choice. These choices are not irrevocable, but they can feel that way. We are conditioned to think that the perfect choice will fulfill us in ways we can only imagine. We will leap out of bed to perform its tasks and go to bed at night to dream of doing more tomorrow. If only we choose correctly. That’s a lot of pressure. And that’s not to mention the financial ramifications of your choice.

When Eric was little he loved playing with legos and with cardboard bricks. He literally built houses of these bricks in our third floor playroom; houses we could play in. For a long time we thought he might become an architect.

He was always argumentative. He used to take a position opposite to the rest of the family just to be able to argue. He was our contrarian, so we thought the law might be a good path for him.

At a very precocious age, Eric was a caller on a financial radio show. I don’t remember exactly how old he was, but I don’t think he had hit double digits yet, and there he was talking finance with the show’s hosts. Could Wall Street have been the perfect fit for him?

Eric spent many, many years trying to find his perfect fit. We were concerned that he was looking for too much in a job; that no career, no matter how perfect, could ever be the be all and end all of anyone’s life. He needed friends, family, hobbies, to round out that life. In the end, I think he found what he was looking for. He found an industry that fascinated him, a woman he adored and a lifestyle full of activities and friends.

I am still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up. I took a much more traditional path than Eric. I left my first love of acting and singing to pursue a more stable, financially secure path…or so I thought. I needed a path where my efforts would be rewarded reliably, not where my hair color or body type could decide my employment. I don’t handle rejection well; the theatre became a depressing place for me. Although I still love it and am jealous of my friends who did pursue it.

I love being a wife and a mother. Although at times my kids can drive me nuts, life would not be the same without them and they are a constant source of joy and amazement.

I am not fulfilled at work. But I wonder, if like Eric, I expect too much. He found something that he felt would eventually suffice, but even he wasn’t there yet. He had hope though, and I am rapidly losing that. Still, I go to work and do what I do. After all, the mortgage isn’t going to pay itself, and the kids need to eat. Maybe someday I’ll find the freedom to try something else. Until then, I’ll work when I have to and enjoy my life when I’m not working.