I am not a ballerina, nor am I a teacher. If you had told me when I was six that I wasn’t going to grow up and be either of those things, I probably would have been inconsolable. In my tiny child brain, that’s all I could see myself doing as a grownup. Never once did I answer, “I want to be a communications manager in higher education” when asked what I wanted to be. And yet, here I am. I’m not wearing a tutu taking my bows and I’m not reading to children or correcting homework. I couldn’t be happier – I really love what I do.
The other day the question was posed in the office, “What did you want to be when you grew up?” Fighter pilot, astronaut, sports journalist, Miss America and scientist all made the list, though none of us are actually doing those jobs. Only the person who said “artist” and is a graphic designer (and beautiful artist) actually does what she dreamed of as a kid.
So when does it all change? When do we put aside our childhood thoughts about vocation and choose another path? What happens that leads us to different futures that we thought were our callings?