In Ten Years, Who Will I Be?


My anxiety stems from wasted time. Fortunately, as the years have gone and I have grown, those anxieties dwindled down. However, if I sit down and try to comprehend everything I want to accomplish and become in this short span of a lifetime, I can feel my heartbeat quicken and hear it pound inside my ears. I can’t decide what mark I am supposed to leave for the world, because between the art, music, writing, serving, traveling, learning, teaching, and helping others, I want to do a little bit of everything, but my anxiety lingers on my shoulders when I imagine I may not have enough time to do it all. I just turned 21, and it’s cause me to really sit down and reflect about the person I want to become, and what I’ve done so far in order to achieve it.

I am almost done with my third year of college, studying Journalism with a focus in Public Relations with a minor in Non-Profit Management, because I discovered writing is what I am good at, and helping others is what I want to do with it. What specific career will that lead me to? I can’t confidently say, not without the vague response of just striving to work for a cause-driven nonprofit organization that I can write and work under as a Public Relations manager. Lately, my interests and passions have kept my heart and eye on the Middle East, and specifically helping children. Being around and working with children is what fuels my soul, and lets it know I am doing my part in serving and helping as part of my life’s purpose I see under the Lord’s will. The other part of me? They’re jumbled and clumped together desperately trying to distinguish themselves as what else should be the reason for my existence.

Writing, is how I feel I can most coherently express myself, and send the messages I want to send across. Since I was thirteen years old, I created characters in my head and wrote out their stories like movies while listening to music play inside the car radio. Outside the window, I could see them, but they wouldn’t come to life until I wrote and drew them down on paper. When I was younger, I was more passionate about creating them rather than writing them. I drew them on my sketchbooks, spent hours adding color to them on the computer, and then spent time each day coming up with their stories. Before college, I thought I had settled on becoming an art major, taking what I knew to the next level. I even day dreamed about working for my favorite animation companies, like Disney’s Pixar, where I could have the chance to bring some of my characters to life or help create others. But I found out writing was my specialty, it was actually where I felt the most creative and at home, and with words I could do bountiful amounts of things with. I couldn’t see myself fitting anywhere else but inside the Journalism department, and having a broad spectrum of possibilities of what I want to do with it.


My problems as of late however reflect everything else my heart wants to do, it yearns to draw, to pick up the piano, to become a teacher, to work in the music industry, to work out of the country and help, to work at Disney, to write for a newspaper and change it, to learn new languages, to travel the world as much while I can, to spend summers with my YMCA kids forever, to experience all my favorite bands, keep up to date on video games, read a hundred books before the year ends, to join a dance club and dance again, to routinely pick up yoga, spend hours on the floor of the comic book store, watch every critically acclaimed movie, to adopt a dog, to continue working out, to serve the Lord in His church and volunteer work, to fall in love again, write poems, finish my books and have them published one day, and to keep writing in this blog.

I know this life seems long, but it also feel short. I don’t know where I see myself in the next ten years besides a mother, and hopefully completing at least half of everything I want to do before I’m married. School, some classes in particular, give me that anxiety because I feel it is interrupting and wasting time I could be using to learn how to play the piano or become more interested in my art again, even though it’s a necessary step in order to accomplish my career goals. Other more trivial things, like netflix, social media and pointless internet browsing also gets in the way of time I know I could spend otherwise, which is why I try to do as less of it as possible.


If I could, in an ideal world where currency was also not an issue, and time didn’t exist, I would quit school and travel for a few years across our states and in other countries, write down everything I felt and draw everything I saw. Listen to all different types of music and learn them. I would want to spend time with other people and create ever lasting memories with them, and become involved in helping those in need more so. I would do yoga and read in a hammock somewhere deep in a forest right outside a white house I built for my family to stay in during the summers. I could spend days on the beach without worrying an assignment is due as soon as the holidays are over in order to get a job that would help me survive and pay off my loans. Going to college just to get a job in order to pay off college and support myself was never part of my agenda, which is why I never cared to learn how much careers differed in salaries. I don’t want to work a day in my life, I want to help children and be a part of their lives in the best way I know how to, which is through writing and becoming involved.


So, maybe I really have figured out where I’ll be in ten years even if I can’t pause time. I’m going to work for a NonProfit I’m passionate about that will relate to children, publish books that will help high school students not feel so alone, own a piano I can play in the entry room and see my kids mess with, draw whenever I feel like there’s not an critically acclaimed movie to watch with my husband, workout with zumba and yoga to keep my dancing heart alive on the weekends, travel whenever I have saved enough money solely dedicated to seeing the world, volunteer as much as I can in my community and in countries I visit, still be surprised by a new comic book delivery, play all my favorite old video games and kick my sons butt in the news ones, never lose the passion and feeling I get when discovering new music and making mixtapes, still sneak in an anime episode before bed, keep watching television series I call my dad to rant about after every episode, live near enough where my kids can grow up with grandparents and family the way I never got to, and I’ll be that old person this guy reminded me of during my last festival, still going to music events even by himself just to feel young again. He was about sixty years old, and all he wanted that day was for someone to dance with him, and although he said I made his day…he’ll never know how much he made my life.


I’m only 21, and although I get anxiety because I feel like I haven’t done as much as I think I should have in two decades and a year, I know I eventually will. I have a lot to look forward to, and I can’t wait, and if there is anything I should get anxiety about…it should be that.

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