What I Thought

I guess when I was younger, I wished a lot of things for myself when I “grow up.” I suppose every kid had those thoughts. Every kid wanted to be an astronaut or a race car driver or a doctor. And some kids went over the top like becoming President or becoming a celebrity. I, for one, was one of those over-the-top kids. I always knew I had a talent and I always thought that I was unique or I was the only one out of almost everyone that could sing. My small innocent feeble mind made me believe that it was rare that hardly anyone could sing unless you were famous.

I remember it was early grade school; 2nd grade, I believe. I wanted to get into chorus because I was so passionate about this awesome thing I could do that I could upstage anyone or that going into chorus would magically make me famous. Until I met a girl in chorus. I won’t say names but we can call her “Amy.” That’s not her real name but that will be her name for confidentiality sake. I quickly found out that Amy could sing too and in fact, could sing better than me. As a very small child at that moment, I felt so defeated because Amy was so popular and she had outstanding grades and she was like top of the class. So, naturally, I felt I had to live up to that standard. But long story short, I never did. I never was “better” than Amy. Looking back now, I know it’s petty and immature but I was just a kid. My point here is I suppose that was the first realization that I’m not THAT special. I am special because I am my own person. I am me, but I wasn’t the big shot and miracle that I thought I was because that is just not how it works. And in that time of my life, I learned that. I often think about Amy and wonder what she had done with her life compared to mine.

But this was not the only lesson learned. I still had high expectations for myself regardless and this applied to a play I tried out for in 4th grade. With any young girl, I think we always had another girl that was just a step above us. With these girls I always felt 20 steps down from them. I tried out for this play because I felt I was a good singer and I could act too. The play was called Twinderella. Although I don’t remember what it was about exactly besides it being along the lines of Cinderella but with a twist. I tried out for, of course, the lead role. Obviously I didn’t get the role but instead a different girl did. Another popular girl and it wasn’t Amy but I feel, to this day, like favoritism was played here.

I feel like I nailed this audition. But when they announced the casting I was far from happy. In fact I was absolutely humiliated. They casted me as “the enchanted gerbil.” I had only eight lines and of course, Amy did get in the play but not as the lead. But my lines were solely a conversation between her and I. I had to wear this sweaty brown gerbil jumpsuit that had a hood on it with ears. Needless to say, it was one of the most humiliating times of my life. I suppose the lesson I learned here was I’m not going to get everything I want even if I try my hardest to get it. And sometimes, it’s humiliating.

I stayed in chorus throughout school. But my expectations of what I was going to become was slowly diminishing as the years went by. I wanted to be a singer “when I grow up” because that’s what they ask you as a little kid: what you want to be. And that’s what I wanted to be. And then I wanted to be a veterinarian when I hit middle school. But I wasn’t privileged. I didn’t get to have Mommy and Daddy pay my way through college or them buy me a car. I didn’t get grants or scholarships. I was just trying to survive being in school through all the bullying and bad grades. Eventually I knew I wasn’t going to be all the crazy amazing things I thought I would be. The only thing that ever stayed constant was my participation in chorus. That was all I had left of that dream.

I was just turning 12 or 13. My mom had been dating someone for a few months who had two daughters. One was my age and went to school with me and the other was two years older. The girl that was my age was my best friend. Every time she would come over, we were inseparable. Her dad always made me feel uncomfortable, though. He would smack my butt or unclasp my training bra with just two fingers over my shirt. No one thought anything of it. But I always felt odd about it.

It was Christmas Eve that year about midnight. He came into my room and did things to me that no young girl should EVER have to go through. But we won’t talk about that and we can just cut to two hours later. I got up and my mom was awake in her bathroom. He was sleeping in the bed. I told my mother everything. We woke him up and had him sit on the couch and asked him about the incident. Of course, he denied it and I felt defeated so I said, “Well, maybe it was just a bad dream”

A month went by. I kept my distance from him as much as possible. He scared me. Until one day my mom got a call and they told her he was arrested for child molestation and rape. On his own daughters. My mom then realized that what I was telling her was 100 percent true and was devastated. I had to give a statement against him about what he had done to me specifically. At this time in my life, any dreams of singing, any dreams of being a vet, any innocent child desires went away. I got into drugs and drinking and hanging out with the wrong crowd, sneaking out at night smoking cigarettes at 14-years-old. I once got arrested for breaking into the football field with some friends at 2 AM and had to do community service. The behavior carried into sophomore year. I had no dreams left, no cares, and no innocence.

The huge difference from being so small and dreaming big to growing up and realizing those big dreams are a lot farther away than any child could imagine is that as children, we don’t have the capacity to feel like they will never amount to anything. I think all kids think they will be amazing, over-the-top things because they’re so innocent. They never realized real life and how damn hard it is to make something of yourself, especially if you go down the wrong path as I have.

But that didn’t end there for me. The drugs and the drinking ended by senior year. And I graduated! But I could never afford college, plus all these years of not caring or not knowing what I even wanted to do hindered that. I had to learn how to buy my own car too and I had to get a job. Fast forward to today. I have a son now. I live with a friend and I work as an administrative assistant. It’s not a singing career and I’m not playing with animals and I struggle a lot. I often look back to my childhood and wonder if there was anything different I could have done that would change my life dramatically. If I would have been successful now. I don’t know. But I do know that the innocence of a child doesn’t know the hard reality of adulthood. And now I know why they always say listen to your parents—because they are wise and they know exactly what they say. But we are too headstrong to realize that until it’s too late. At least for me.

But I’m still young, 23 and still kicking through even if it’s too hard. And even though I’m not a kid anymore, I can still dream about things that maybe I won’t ever get to do. But at least dreaming can keep me in touch with my youth and innocence that I so much want back. And who knows? Maybe in the future, I can do great things.