Tag Archives: Dreams

Growing Up

17 Feb

As a little girl,

I had big dreams

Some were huge oceans,

Others were little streams.


In my innocent mind,

Nothing was impossible

Life was a blank slate,

Yours to make visible.


That was when everything was perfect,

Only now do I wonder

Where was the rain before

Where was the thunder?


As I grow older,

And reality grows heavier

The illusion I had is gone,

While the storm grows steadier.


Is this what growing up means?

Letting go of the rainbow

Putting yourself down,

And forever saying no.




I Want To Be The President

1 Feb

Remember when we were in grade school, and we had things called “journals”? Small notebooks, where we to write an entry each week. Some weeks, we were given a topic to write about. Other weeks, we could write about whatever we liked. We could always accompany the writing with a drawing. Coloured with many different colours of crayons, of course.

I remember we were once given the topic of “what do you want to be when you grow up”. As a child, I changed my mind a few times about what I wanted to be. First, it was a lawyer. Then, a journalist. After, my mom managed to convince me to be a doctor (story for another time). But at the time that this topic was given to us, I did not want to be a doctor. Nor a journalist. Nor a lawyer. I wanted to be the President of the United States of America. Keep in mind that I was 7 at the time.

You might ask, since when do 7 year olds feel the urge to become the President? What can I say, I’ve always been an over-achiever. But in all honesty, it was because about a month earlier, I had read a biography on John F. Kennedy. My mom had it lying on her desk, and one Sunday morning, when I was up before the rest of my family, I read it. And I was really fascinated by that book too. It was about 200 pages- one of those DK Biographies- and I finished that book in 2 hours. For the next few months, after reading that biography, I proceeded to tell everyone I knew that I wanted to become the President when I grew up. I was 7.

Of course, this was before I found out that I could never become the President, through no fault of my own. Matter of the fact is, I was not born in the USA, and I never will be born in the USA. Thus, I’m unable to become the President of America. I was actually crushed when I found out about this. But regardless, this has been something that has stuck with me through the years. I remember getting back my journal after I handed it in with the entry about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I eagerly flipped it open to see the comments my teacher had written (reading the comments of teachers has always been and always will be my favourite part of getting back handed in assignments and projects). To this day, I still remember what had been written. “You have very big dreams, and I look forward to one day seeing you as the President.” When I think back to it now, she was probably just being nice, trying not to quash my dreams.

I shake my head whenever I think back to that journal entry. I was so naive. And it is embarrassing. I have no regrets though. Now, I can look back, tell the story to friends, and laugh at my 7 year old self. Although I do wish I had that journal… (My family moved a lot, so all of my work from when I was younger were all thrown out)

I still do want to be the President, though. But now, I know it’s not possible. Instead, it will be something that will happen in my wildest dreams. Which isn’t as good as having it actually happen, but it’s okay, I guess.