When I Grow Up

"You'll never amount to anything, you will always be a homely failure." These are the words that I recalled over and over in my mind as I grew up. Yet, each night i'd lay down and dream before I actually closed my eyes, of how, someday; I would be successful. I would be somebody. I would make someone proud. I WILL be somebody. The words might not have stung so badly had it come from just another person, but they came from a parent.

As I got older, I was taken from my home, and placed in foster care. The dreams continued in my mind. Maybe I would be a model, no that was for the pretty girls, not just the skinny ones. Maybe a doctor, that was for the smart girls. Though I loved the study of medicine, particularly natural medicine, I surely wasn't smart enough for such a thing. Perhaps I would be a professional horse rider like my mom, perhaps then she would love and want me. That probably wouldn't work, either, since I was terrified of those big, beautiful creatures. Perhaps, I would write one day, I would tell my story. I would tell many stories. Perhaps....

As I got older yet, still in foster care, while most kids were out enjoying their friends, I remained friendless, still a product of the prisoner that I had captured in my mind. I wouldn't let anyone get close enough to me, to get to know the real me, though I longed for that friend. So, I continued to dream. I dreamt big, someday perhaps, I would be someone.. perhaps someone would notice me. Someday, the world might be a better place because of me. Perhaps... someday.

I remember thinking when I grow up, i'm going to go to the coffee shop, sit down with a cup of coffee, and write. I will write and write and write. I will tell my story. Then I remembered, I don't like coffee. I tried to doctor it up with sugar, creamers, flavoring. I still don't like coffee, regardless of what it is done to it. The coffee is still the flavor that comes out. So, I threw out the fact that someday i'll ever be grown up enough to like coffee. So instead, I sit at the coffee shop and drink cocoa and write to my hearts content.

So, now i'm grown up, or so they tell me. I have three children of my own, who are also growing up. I've learned I will never like coffee, though i've tried, I still love medicine, but that is not my calling. I love people more.
I love reaching out to people who need hope, people who need someone to believe in them. I love working with prisoners, and the homeless, the downtrodden and the rejected. I love writing about medicine, but not in the traditional sense that I once thought. I love talking about green living.

I still dream. I dream big. I dream of being a great mom, and I dream of telling my story so that the world knows that the downtrodden don't have to stay that way.

I have realized that while i've grown up, i've finally become comfortable with who I am. I am simply a mom, who is well educated in her own right, a believer in hope, a believer in second chances, a believer in forgiveness, a cheerleader for her children, a woman with a voice who can change the world, because someone believed in her enough to change her.

I still dream big.