I have been thinking about what the hell I'm doing with my life a lot recently. In a rather terrifying moment of realisation, it occurred to me that I have absolutely no idea, and haven't done since I was a child!
When I was a little there was one thing I knew with certainty: that I wanted to be a mum. So I guess that's always been the main goal, to eventually be someone's mum. I am forever hopeful that I shall get to tick that one off the list. But in terms of a job, I had some pretty decent ideas there too. There were three options:
I once had a discussion with my Mum about archaeology. She (quite rightly) pointed out that it isn't all dinosaurs and Ancient Egypt, and over time I came to realise that she was right. I thought that perhaps the other aspects might not appeal to me so much, so that kind of fell by the wayside.
The vet option was pretty high on my list. I decided I'd go for it. When I was in year 9 (so I was 13-14) I took the SATS (school tests) and I didn't study anywhere near as much for maths and English as I did for science. I got great marks in the former two, and at least a grade lower in the latter. So that wasn't a great start, but by then I had already selected separate sciences for my GCSEs (the tests in year 10-11 when you are 15 and 16). Needless to say I was not amazing at those subjects. I think I came away with a B in Biology, a C in Physics (that I dragged up from a U – ungraded), and only a D in Chemistry, although having not had a teacher for a year and being stuck with subs I was not too gutted about it. I was in the classes with many a genius, some of whom have gone on to amazing things, so I knew it wasn't for me.
That left me with one option. I went on to do my A-Levels in year 12 and 13 (up to age 18) and studied Media Studies, Drama and Theatre Studies, and English Language and Literature. I would be a writer! A day in the hospitality trucks at the Silverstone Formula One Grand Prix honed my choice down even further. I strolled up and down the pit lane and hobnobbed with journalists. They were getting free food, meeting famous sports stars, and getting to write about it all! Yes please, I thought, I will do that. All the free yoghurt I could possibly want. Brilliant. Fail safe plan.
Off I went to Bournemouth University in September 2005 to embark on a Multi-Media Journalism degree. I was going to be famous and amazing and everyone would want my autograph. I'd write exceptional thought provoking pieces and make people really sit up and listen. I just knew that it was the right choice, I had excelled at the interview day and impressed them with my portfolio of copy I'd produced during work experience with the Marketing team at Renault F1, where I'd been lucky enough to write some press releases and articles that had been published in a few motor sports magazines. No idea what happened to those articles or to that girl! I'l be honest, I did not win at journalism. I loved uni, but I quickly discovered that journalism wasn't for me. I didn't have the confidence in myself or my abilities, and I certainly wasn't ruthless enough to make it. Since then I have watched so many of my friends achieve great things, but I was not going to be one of them. Not in journalism, at least. If I am completely honest, I think the summer before I even started uni, I had my doubts. But I still wanted to go for it. And I'm so glad I did, my confidence improved and I had the time of my life, meeting friends that are still my whole world to this day.
I left uni during the beautiful recession and took a job in a shop, before eventually getting an administration job. That is pretty much what I have done since then. Nothing creative, just finding my way around and keeping money flowing in. I'm not ashamed of that, but I'm not overly impressed. How boring. My work dreams were huge, and I haven't seen them for years. I always say that a career isn't something I am actually interested in, but I would like to at least have a job that I feel passionate about.
It has probably become clear by now that I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I know it's a bit late, I will be 30 in a few months, but I have decided not to be scared. I am going to carry on working a job to earn money, work for free to build up the pest control company I started with my boyfriend, and find time to dream for myself. And this is the start of that final notion. I am going to blog more, write some more poems, maybe create some short stories, and who knows...I may even write that novel one day instead of having it taking up space in my head! I would love as much support as I can get while I play this game of dream chasing. I want to take this as far as I can. I am prepared to thicken up my skin and put myself out there. I will regret far more not giving it a go than trying and failing. I'm not ashamed of the attempts I've made so far, even if they didn't work out. I have tried to find out who I am, of course there were going to be bumps along the way. But I've got this now. I am capable and smart, it's about time I drag myself into gear and do something with that. I need the challenge and I need the outlet.
So here I go...I'm trusting my instincts, I am closing my eyes, and I am ready to leap. Brave and creative me is back, and I will not stop until I know if this is who I am forever. Take my hand, join me on this adventure.
Big love x