My very first "ambition" was to become an archaeologist. I was around 8 years old then and it was all because of Indiana Jones. I became fascinated with reading about prehistoric cultures, lost cities and the adventure of discovering them. Of course, I know now that an archaeologist's life isn't really as exciting as Harrison Ford and George Lucas made it appear to be but it's still something that continues to hold my wonder and fantasy.
In fourth grade, I became a reporter for our school paper. Before that, I only wrote in my diary and for English class assignments but it was something I enjoyed. Being part of The Dove, my primary school publication's name, developed my love for writing even more and that's when my next, and longest-running dream, came about. I wanted to become a journalist.
Aside from writing, I also loved to draw. I'm a little ashamed to admit it but my notebooks back in elementary and high school were filled with doodles and sketches instead of lectures. You can imagine the panic and frenzy I went into every time a teacher would require a complete notebook and I had to write them all down in a new one. :O I decided then that, just in case I wouldn't be able to take up Journalism in college, Fine Arts would be my next choice.
Unfortunately, my father stopped being supportive of my art and writing around high school because he felt I was wasting too much time with them instead of focusing on my academics. I wasn't a good student in the sense that I wasn't very diligent. I flew by the seat of my pants when it came to school but I got good grades and made the honor roll, albeit inconsistently. I also frequently got picked to join in competitions for essay-writing, slogan-making, spelling bees and word power. But when my dad began comparing me to my more studious, grade-conscious cousin, who ended up being salutatorian, I rebelled by making even less of an effort. I didn't take home bad grades but I performed well below what I was capable of.
And when I finally had to choose a school for college, I wanted to study in Manila because neither Journalism nor Fine Arts was being offered in Zamboanga but my ultra-conservative, overprotective father refused to let me go. I had to choose a course that was available in our city. I was heartbroken. I ended up choosing Nursing like most of my friends.
I eventually grew to love my profession but I still wonder sometimes: what if my parents had been more supportive, where would I be now? What would I be now? The husbo comforts me by saying that if I'd chosen the path I wanted to, I would never have met him and we wouldn't have Jeolo which is true. I guess God had different plans for me and it all worked out for the best. However, I've made a promise to myself that whatever Jeolo chooses to do in the future, I will support him. He will have our guidance but we will let him make the ultimate choice. Hopefully, we will be able to raise him to be a good and smart young man, capable of making the right decisions for himself.
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How about you? What did you want to be when you grew up and did your dream come true?
Mood Music: For Good - Original Cast Recording from Wicked (Musical)