When I was younger, I wanted to be so many things.
The first dream career was to be a Doctor. I loved the idea of lots of school and big thick medical books. Unfortunately, when I discovered that Doctors encounter lots of things that are usually beneath the skin. Also, I didn't want to hurt anyone or have to tell a family bad news. Or even worse, tell a patient bad news.
Then, I realized people get paid to write. Bingo. I identify with the written word and it has always been a comfort. I have a hard time relating to people, but to book characters I have a kinship. The real world is so disgusting and cruel, but Lucy Maud Montgomery, Joanna Swift, Madeline L'Engle, and countless others created magical landscapes I can visit anytime. Even when sad things happen, it is still largely ok. I knew I had stories in me. I started writing actually around four years old. Obviously, these were not literary masterpieces, bit they were practice. How can I write characters who leap off the page? How can I be descriptive without being repetitive? I practiced writing how people spoke. I wrote short stories based on actual events in my life. As I wrote before, my mom encouraged this and would either ask me elaborate or give me a magazine article to write about. What also appealed to me was the magic of writing. I could sit outside with my notebooks during the day and by night transcribe my work with a typewriter. No office would hold me prisoner. My workplace would be on a blanket under trees on a blanket of soft moss.
I never envisioned having a family. I wanted at least a boyfriend. I definitely never saw myself as a mother. I am not patient. Also, although I can entertain myself, keeping someone else constantly engaged is a daunting task. I did want a large group of diverse friends. I am kind of weird as anyone who reads this blog should be discovering. I liked Mark Twain, but I also loved My Teacher is an Alien. I didn't exactly fit in at school. I wanted to outgrow my weirdness and have cool friends.
I wanted to be beautiful like Whitney Houston. I wanted a house like Heidi, a simple cottage surrounded by fir trees in the mountains. I wanted to be content in my own skin and happy with my life.