When I grow up I want to...
Buds bloom into trees
Their path already chosen
When will I grow up?
As a child, I viewed adulthood as an unequivocal end state. An unchanging phase in life and as with video games:
When every map is unlocked in Grand Theft Auto.
When you’ve watched every cutscene in The Witcher.
When you’ve bought every furnishing in The Sims.
In my childhood view, adulthood was like the final moments before the last boss battle. A phase where all the major life decisions have already been made, leaving only routine responsibilities.
Yet, as each year passes, I find myself echoing the same question I pondered in my youth: “When I grow up, where do I want to be?”
When I grow up, I want to run a café.
Every chance encounter sparks a desire to embrace a new career. My recent escapades at a local café have me contemplating the life of a café owner. Much like the image of a consoling bartender, I welcome the neighbourhood into my den to speak of their ills and blessings. To impart my own.
I will know the name of every patron, and they, mine.
When I grow up, I want to own a gym.
Before there was the café, there was the gym. What started as a simple exercise in weight loss evolved into a newfound sanctuary.
As one gym experience concluded, another emerged. Gyms, to me, are like benign viruses that spread as trainers branch out to start anew. I would be one such trainer. Promoting a lifestyle of longevity through physical health.
A meditation conjured of Kettlebells and Boxing gloves.
At the end of every class we would take a group picture with the hashtag: #family.
When I grow up, I want to be a counsellor.
If a career of chronic depression could be used to benefit, then why shouldn’t it? I imagine myself, dressed eccentrically, with office walls painted in pastoral green and warm, earthy tones. Horn-rimmed glasses beneath a corduroy flat cap.
Each day, I'd help others navigate their grief, anger, or depression with knowledge born of personal experience and study.
A life lived in service of others while in service of my own.
When I grow up, I want to write a book.
If I can engage a therapist for an hour every other week, then I certainly have enough material for a book. It will be a cathartic dark comedy, exploring the worst moments of my life with a dash of artistic liberty. Names and locations will be altered for privacy, but those who know me might connect the dots.
I dream of it becoming a New York Times Bestseller with at least one review reading: “I laughed and cried and not always in that order.”
When I grow up, I want to make a video game.
My fascination with video games in childhood seamlessly transitions into an adult aspiration: to create a video game of my own.
A ‘choose your own adventure’ title, made with pre-generated art. One where the line between main quests and side quests blurs. In this world, each decision holds weight, and every twist could lead to an abrupt end, compelling players to seriously consider their choices.
There is no going back, no past saves. Only a restart. I imagine myself lurking in Reddit groups, subtly influencing discussions about the game, adding layers of misdirection.
Forever in Early Access, you will love it and hate it. But you will play it.
When I grow up, I want to be a comedian.
Forever the clown, be it in school and work. There’s a place for me on the comedy circuit. One butt cheek perched on the edge of a stool, microphone in hand, delivering a blend of Garry Shandling, Norm Macdonald and George Carlin.
I don't envision grand stadiums; rather, I see myself in the intimate ambiance of dive bars. There, amidst the dim lights and close-knit audience, I sling jokes, not for fame or fortune, but a few free burgers at the end of the night.
The jokes may be dark but never to hurt. The only fool is me and possibly the audience if it paid to see me.
When I grow up
This phrase is often spoken with childlike naivety, a sentiment in which I still find myself.
If our future path were as simple as saplings following the light, this would be straightforward. Yet, every new experience casts light in unexpected directions and I still find myself repeating, “When I grow up”.
It won’t happen.
I’ll just find something new to grow towards.
Some other fanciful ideas:
When I grow up I want to own a farm full of cats.
When I grow up I want to own a farm full of raccoons.
When I grow up I want to own a farm full of red pandas.
When I grow up I want to own a farm full of dogs, the big husky kind.
When I grow up I want to own another farm full of cats.