I Won't Grow Up

6-year-old Jeremiah asked me something other than, "Do you wanna watch Rio with me?" tonight at the dinner table. It caught me off guard. I couldn't give him a straight answer. I joked with him, his mother, my sister and new brother-in-law. I asked him the same question in return, and he genuinely thought about it for a sec, then his face lit up as he replied, "A zoo-keeper."

"What do you want to be when you're old and have heaps of money Aunty?" he asked. I didn't really have an answer for him. After I mumbled out some um's and ah's, I said, "A mum! I want to be a mum." Miah laughed and told me I couldn't get paid to be a mum - silly me. Uncle Gary told him that he wanted to do something with music one day, Aunty Gina wanted to own a business, his mother wanted to be a chef. And there I sat, kind of embarassed because I didn't really know what I wanted to be. What the hell was I doing with my life? I never thought of myself as old, or anything like that, but there comes a time when you should probably at least know what you want to do with you life right? Is 21 that age where you should know?

I know that when I was Jeremiah's age, I was all about singing, dancing, acting and modelling. There are hundreds of photos and videos of me pulling my best Sporty Spice pose, singing back up to 'Oh Happy Day' from Sister Act 2 for my brother, dancing the Macarena like no other 6-year-old could. I was in dozens of big stage shows, support leads even! I learnt the piano, picked up jazz and tap through the shows, sang solos in front of full houses at Aotea Centre, I was a confident wee thespian I was! This phase lasted forever, I didn't grow out of it til I was out of intermediate. That dream of making it big and starring in Shortland St obviously died. But it was the first thing I knew I wanted to pursue in life.

By the time I hit 13, I was an avid sports fan. I'd played netball, rugby league, basketball, backyard cricket, competed in athletics. But touch was my life. My whole family was into it, we were all Auckland reps and if we weren't down at the park competing against other teams, we were competing against eachother in the backyard on our home-made 5-metre line field. I was a fit young thing, loved all the sports I was playing at school socially and competitively, and I loved the theory and physicality of P.E. as a subject. I don't know why, but from about 13 through to 16, I wanted to be a physiotherapist. I guess I thought it made good money and had something to do with sport. Then in my 7th form year, I was inspired by my P.E. teacher to become one (a P.E. teacher that is). Because I was a lot older, I can definitely say I was passionate about this goal. I enjoyed and understood the subject at school, I enjoyed the inter-activeness with my teacher at the time, and I could see myself doing it. I didn't get into the uni course to be a P.E. teacher.

Heading into my first year of uni, I opted to do a BA, purely because english was the next subject I was successful in, and also one which I enjoyed. I found a whole new realm of english that year - journalism. I loved it. Writing seemed to come easily to me throughout school, and now at uni, I could almost write what I wanted, however I wanted to. No essay outline, no answers to text and all that jazz. I wanted to be a writer. A magazine or newspaper columnist or something along those lines.

Uni didn't work out for me at all. I wasn't focussed enough on it, and I don't think I had enough drive in me to get a degree done. I took time off, went back and changed my major to public health, mainly because my Mum suggested it after I worked with her for half a year doing something similar. Yeah, I enjoyed some of it, it seemed like a legitimate career path, but I wasn't passionate about it, the way I was about writing.

So here I am, two years later, with the same goal of being a writer, no where closer to it. I've had another thought of owning my own bar one day, after Big Tom P tossed the idea around with me one night, because I loved my jobs as bartenders previously. I'm good at it and it's something else I'm passionate about. I don't think simply being a bartender for the rest of my life would make Mama Gut too happy.

I guess there's always been a stigma around admitting what I wanted to do throughout my life. I'm not sure if everybody feels the same way, but I've found I've needed approval of my goals. Constant reassurance that I'm good at what I'm doing. If I failed at something, I simply packed it in and changed my mind because I saw it as a sign that maybe I wasn't good at it. I guess that's what this blog is about really. Seeing as I exhausted my resources, going about achieving my goal the traditional way, I have to go about satisfying my writing hunger in other ways. Seeing all my friends about to graduate really got me thinking, is it my turn? Am I ready to grow up? Facing failure is a big part of growing up, I believe, and it's inevitable. You have to call on self-motivation and determination to get through the ever-looming fact that sometimes, you are going to fail. My friends all have that drive. They're growing up and becoming event managers, designers, teachers, entrepreneurs (I really do admire you guys! *tears*).

As much as I don't want to, it's time to grow up. Here's hoping this blog will keep me motivated to go about becoming a certified bad ass columnist, the alcohol will keep me motivated to open my own bar one day and Jeremiah will become a lion tamer in his lifetime, at least.

Serious thoughts over. Enjoy a song on me, Parallel Dance Ensemble - Conditions, on repeat at the mo.

Frech kiss, fries, ketchup for two/

What? Your past catch up wit' you?/