When we were little kids, there was always that one question we got asked a lot and that is, what do you want to be when you grow up? We always replied with either the most obvious answer which was following a family career, or an unexpected one influenced by a fictional character. We seemed to have it all figured out back then, but little did we know…
When I was little, I thought I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up; I wanted to become a pharmacist, just like my dad. Of course, I wanted to pursue a couple other careers as well like a singing one because I was *clears throat* a hardcore Hannah Montana fan, or a dancing career because I was obsessed with So You Think You Can Dance? tv show. But following my father’s footsteps seemed like the most realistic thing to do then and frankly, I couldn’t have gotten better at either singing or dancing beyond the level of an amateur so I kept them both as a hobby. However, I’m 4 years into pharmacy school and I started having second thoughts about my ‘childhood dream job’.
Back in middle school, I wrote my first personal writing. I was pissed off at something so I poured my thoughts down on a piece of paper. Then in high school, I started picking up a pen more often and writing down quotes, poems, and writings whenever I felt like turning my thoughts into written words. I rarely shared my writings with anyone as I didn’t realize that these were actual writing pieces. I thought I was just expressing myself on paper rather than verbally, not because I’m gifted to do so. And even when my English teacher praised the articles I wrote in class, I thought it was because I’m an A student not because I’m talented. It never hit me that I might have the talent of writing until 2 years ago. I unawarely ignored all the signs that there is a writer in me since I was young. I mistook constantly trying to have a diary for my very organized personality. I mistook my friends complimenting my writings for my expressive self. I mistook my teacher suggesting I should write in a magazine for my great academic level. I mistook my writings as a therapeutic hobby. Little did I know that writing was supposed to be my childhood dream job.
To me, writing is a gift I’m so blessed with. Writing is like art; there are different kinds of paintings that one could create using different brushes and colors, where the brushes are the style of wording, the colors are the choice of words and the paintings are the final worded masterpieces. And I’m gifted with a brush that helps me narrate my dreams and write my fears. I’m gifted with a brush that helps me keep my memories and save the moments. I’m gifted with a brush that helps me speak out loud and clear my thoughts. I’m gifted with a brush that helps me give life to a fictional world. I’m gifted with a brush that made me ask myself the same question people used to ask little me: what do I want to be when I grow up? Because now I think I’ve really figured it out, and it’s not based on a family career nor is it based on a fictional character, it’s based on what I would really like to do for the rest of my life. I want to write.
So yeah maybe I’m 4 years late for finding my true passion but that doesn’t mean I’m too late. I know people who quit college or their stable jobs just to do something they enjoy or even start looking for it; these are the kind of people who happily succeed in their life. So as cliché as it sounds, you need to find your passion and follow it. Don’t just settle for your childhood dream job unless it is your true passion. Don’t stop looking for your passion until you find something you lose yourself into. Find a brush and paint yourself a pretty picture; you’ll love it as much as I love writing this.
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