I’m turning twenty-five next month. I am at a stage now, where I question my life. My thoughts have been philosophical and shit for me lately; I am officially and truly a twenty-something, but slowly approaching thirty something, which is a bit weird to me as everywhere I go, when there are no kids involved, I am almost always, the youngest something.
Reflecting on my life, as one often does when approaching their birth anniversary, I thought about my childhood and then I thought about my likes and dislikes as a child. Then I thought about what I expected my life to turn out as when I became an adult. Then I thought about that some more, and basically it came to this; me writing this post.
So here’s a short list of some of the things I wanted to be growing up:
I watched my mum (yes, my mum) play Tomb Raider as a child. I watched poor Lara get squished to death by moving spiky walls, I saw her jump (sometimes swan-dive) off cliffs screaming on the way down before she splatted on the ground below. I watched Lara get bowled over by a giant rolling boulder, I watched her plunge into large protruding spikes and get mauled by animals and finally, I watched her get shot multiple times. All these deaths were usually followed by my mother exclaiming “Ah, balls”
Despite this, I wanted to be Lara Croft. Lara was spunky smart and really athletic. I was not. This dream became unfulfilled pretty quickly.
My admiration for Lara Croft evolved into a occupation far more realistic, though for me, still pretty far-fetched. I wanted to be a archeologist in Egypt. I was mildly interested in Egyptian artifacts and hieroglyphics and I once made a paper mache canopic Jar. But mostly I wanted to wear cute shorts and dust things with a paintbrush on a archeological dig site. (I could still wear cute shorts and dust things with a paintbrush I guess…)
A gorgeous bohemian traveller/gypsy/hippy chick
This stuck with me in the back of my mind for some time, and I’ll admit now, it still knocks on my subconscious minds door, a quiet knock that you don’t really hear if your busy, but when you are asleep it sounds like a 747.
I wanted to be a quirky, fun and adorable bohemian chick who goes to Europe frequently…
Sometimes dreams are just dreams.
I just wanted to be Rory Gilmore. Except I wanted to write for a trashy teen magazine rather than a classy newspaper. I also thought Journalism was the best option if you liked writing. I still like the idea of journalism, but I’m not doing years of handing out muffins. Although I doubt they do that these days.
While I was happy to tell people I wanted to be a journalist, I felt less proud of the truth, that I really wanted to be a mum. I wanted to get married have kids (as It happened, it worked out the other way around, kid first!)
It would seem, I have achieved one of my many dreams, probably the one that meant the most to me and that’s kind of cool. I’m pretty pleased with this and just maybe one day, I will look back at this list whilst being a Lara Croft/Archeologist/Journalist/Mum super cool hippy chick.
To suit the theme of this post I thought I’d share a pic of me from when I was younger:
Happy Birthday to me,