I’m participating in National Blog Posting Month, aka “NaBloPoMo”, for June 2010. Previous attempts at participation were, um, not as successful, but I am determined to blog at least once a day, every day, even it it kills me. Or at least causes me a great deal of procrastination-related pain.
This month, NaBloPoMo.com is posting daily prompts, questions to get participants going. Today’s question is
When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I always admired those people who knew what they wanted to do when they were young. I am even more impressed (read: jealous) of those folks who grew up and actually became they person they set out to be. I had a list of identities and professions to which I aspired. Sadly, I think I still have that same list rolling around in my head somewhere. I think of myself as a dreamer, but not much of a doer. But before this blog post gets totally depressing (or, even worse, boring), here’s the list of what I wanted to be when I was little.
- writer: Can I check this off my to-do list? I write, just not much for money. For fame? For posterity? I think I thought these were achievable when I was little.
- singer: I remember telling my parents about this dream when I was about 11 and they just laughed. I like to think they thought I was kidding as opposed to mocking me but at that age and given my parents’ personalities, I may never know for sure. Though I do sing now, and often.
- married: It’s true. I figured people got married whether they wanted to or not, that it was something all grown-ups did. But I wanted to be married. I think I still do.
- popular: I was not a popular child. I kept to myself to avoid being bullied, which was occasionally successful. But I was convinced I could be popular because I spent a lot of my time watching what the popular kids did, what they wore, what they ate. They certainly did not come to school in fake leather pants like I did in the third grade, or brag about what they got on a Latin test like I did once in the seventh grade. They were effortlessly cool, and I put all my effort into faking that. I was like a bad knockoff of a popular person.
- thin: I could seriously write an entire post about this, but I won’t. I will say, though, that I’ve been fat (obese more recently) for most of my life. It’s been a big suck on my self-esteem and confidence all that time. In the last few years, it’s been a big suck on my health, too.
- beautiful: My mother is beautiful. She always has been. She won a village beauty pageant when she was 19 so that’s, like, proof. I always felt I got cheated out of her beauty when I was little and as I got older. Much like thin, I could probably write a whole post about this, but even I’m starting to depress myself.
- fancy: Um, so my parents came from pretty solid middle-class upbringings in the Philippines. Living in the States is more expensive, and having one parent who worked to support a family of six placed us solidly in what I would call the working poor. I know my father would be appalled that I’d say such a thing, but it’s true. We were on food stamps, and there was a period where we didn’t have a phone because the bill was too high after my older sister spent a lot of time talking to boys. We’d have to go to the corner to make calls, and occasionally receive them. Fortunately, the drug dealer who used that phone booth as his office was really nice about sharing. Going off to private school with people who had their own phones, who didn’t have to worry about roaches in the kitchen, and didn’t have to wonder if they were eating dinner was intimidating and even worse it made me covetous and ashamed.
I guess I should have written something more lighthearted, like wanting to be a ballerina or a lawyer, but remembering when I was little is is remembering that when I was little, life kinda sucked. Not always, though.