Today’s prompt asks: As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? How close or far are you from that vision?
Okay, maybe it’s just me but this prompt is strangely familiar. I feel like I’ve done several that are like these.
Up until I discovered the joy of writing, I wanted to be a singer. I used to dream about auditioning for singing shows (American Idol, The Voice, America’s Got Talent), win a ton of money, jump start a spotlight career, and perhaps make my mom overjoy with all the money.
When I’m alone, I used to rush down to the basement, blast my stereo, and sing along to every song on my flash drive. That was my equivalent of singing in the shower because, for me, singing in the shower is technically impossible, not with my mom listening.
I’m glad I discovered writing though because at least I don’t have to sing in front of people. Yeah, that was my problem. I am terrify of singing in front of people. There I’ve said it!
That was why I chose choir in high school. So I didn’t have to showcase my voice. Let’s just say, I recorded myself singing once and it sounded like a wailing baby.
That was also why I chose to play piano. Let the instrument do the singing.
In my junior and senior years of high school, I began to really think about what I want to do in life and singing became just a hobby because let’s face it, with my look, people won’t take me seriously (not to belittle myself). After taking two graphic design courses, I decided I want to be a graphic designer. I attended a seminar that talked about this specific career. It was very needed at the time and it will only take two years of technical school training. I can be earning money at 19 (graduated high school at 17).
Alas, it wasn’t mom-approved. So here I am all these years later, at almost 24, I’m still living at home, doing homework and prepping for exams while trying to survive mom’s temper one day at a time while my dream is a million miles away.