What do I want to be when I grow up?
Do I even want to grow up?
What defines me as a person? Am I an individual who is unique and special in my own way?
Or am I defined by my circumstances?
I choose to believe the first…
So who exactly am I anyway?
Besides the quirky blonde who never really gets the joke? The skinniest and palest girl among my peers. The class captain, only chosen because she would cover for the naughty kids and got away with murder with the teachers.
I can’t decide what I want to do someday when I grow up and my time is running out for making that decision. I am so angry that I have to leave school and be a part of that real world. Being grown up and responsible. Jobs and money and insurance and rent. Seriously! Maybe I’ll fail this year and then I can stay in this safe and care-free world known as High School.
All I really want to do is laugh with my friends and worry about who will be the next boy to steal my heart. And go to parties.
I’m not really very good at anything in particular. I get an average of 60% for my art subjects – which are my highest scoring subjects - and I’m told by judges that I am a good catwalk model. Great! So I can look forward to a career in which I’ll be forced to retire by the age of 23, maybe 25 if I’m lucky! Becoming an artist is of course an even better option, where I can look forward to years of poverty as I work my fingers to the bone in the hope that someone might take a liking to my work and make me an over-night success, just like on Great Expectations with Ethan Hawke. I guess there is a possibility of having a secret benefactor? Or not. Sometimes I need to remind myself that life is not a movie and we will never burst out in glorious song and dance like in Grease. How sad.
This thought really does sadden me, but just for a moment. There is so much life to live and regardless of all these “grown-up” responsibilities, I’m going to live life! I’m going to be a “human-doing” and not just a mere “human-being”!
So, let’s see…What are the things I love doing? Well, I do love dancing. I love when music takes over my soul and holds my hand as we move in unison to the rhythm of the beat. When I was six years old I fell in love with the beauty of ballet. I could imagine myself dancing in great ballet theatres all across the world. My first goal I set for myself was to one day be a Prima Ballerina, this never happened. Not because I couldn’t dance. No, it happened because I stopped so many times that I never became supple enough to fulfil the position of a Prima Ballerina. Besides, I just don’t see myself ever committing to dancing for eight hours a day, seven days a week with bleeding toes and aching muscles. No ma’am not me, I lack the meditative mind-set for such a painful and dedicated art.
I have discovered that there is a certain strange comfort in writing poetry and putting some of my random and obscure thoughts on to paper. I doubt that anyone would ever want to read all the rubbish churning around my head though.
I also really love people and I have been a counsellor of sorts in school. I’m often finding friends and even kids who aren’t really my friends who come and ask me for advice about sex and boys. I suppose it’s because I’m a good listener. Of course it could also just be because everyone knows that I’ve had sex and serious relationships with boys every year since my first year in High School. The shame! I don’t actually care. It’s nice to know that I can give advice. It makes me feel important.
Mom and Dad are cool. I obviously hated them for a few years when everything they did was just embarrassing. Like my dad who would drop me off at school in this old V8 bakkie which was so loud that I would wish that he’d drop me a kilometre away from the school gates. (I changed my mind later when a few of the “cool” guys came and asked him to rev it up for them!) Or like when we’re all out for dinner and my dad smooches my mom right there in PUBLIC! Gross!
They are still happily married and it’s really funny when dad nudges me and points to my mom who has her back to us and says “Doesn’t mom have the best legs?” I love it that they are still in love and I love the way that every time I did make a mess of something, they would counsel and help me, always admitting that they too once were young and did naughty things. They never ever threw me out but always found a way to help me deal with the consequences of my naughtiness.
They have always tried to protect me from messing around too much with the boys and put a few strict rules in place. Unfortunately my strong will and insistence on not doing what was best for me still made me do a lot of the things they had rules against. Overall they are the coolest parents I know. They provided a very secure and loving home for the two of us. Yes, there’s also my little brother Allan.
Allan is five years younger than me and as youngsters we were not particularly best friends. In high school I was way too absorbed in my own world of being popular and cool, but I loved him and was very protective of him. It’s only later in life that we became best friends. It turns out that when we became grown-ups he became my greatest role-model. Allan is the sensitive, responsible and clever child of the family; the total opposite of me. He is quiet and reserved. Passionately dedicated to all of his hobbies and he is a genius. Anything he attempts to do for the first time, he aces without effort. Thank God for him, otherwise my poor parents would have had double the sleepless nights of worry and days spent on their knees in prayer for the safety and salvation of their insane child!
But most of all, I love God. Mom and dad took me to the “happy-clappy” church since I was a baby and I love singing and dancing in church. By the time I was in high school I had quite a good foundation in Christianity and I found the spirit realm very interesting. However, my desperate need to stand out and be noticed made me do many thing which I didn’t learn in church. So from my teen years I fought for my flesh to submit to my spirit and it took many years to win that battle.
Back to the question at hand… what do I want to be when I grow up? I do know that the last thing on this earth I want to do is end up doing some silly office job just like every other “ordinary” girl. I am special, eccentric. I have to stand out and make a difference in this world! Then again, I might end up being a heroin addict and die in some dodgy alley with a needle in my arm, never to be remembered by anyone except my parents…
So… what will I be when I grow up then? Perhaps I should go and explore Europe for a while and see if the answers to my questions cannot be found there…? Yes! Imagine being able to gaze at REAL Picassos and stand in awe beneath the Eiffel Tower? I would die a happy girl right there! I will of course probably get distracted on my way there and get married straight after I finish school. Because you know, I NEED to have a man in my life who can define me.
So again, who am I exactly?
Let’s go find out!