“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Raise your hand if you’ve been asked that question. 

I’ve been asked that question again and again,

And I don’t remember when it started, but I was about 10

When someone asked me what I wanted to be and I said

“I have no idea, what was the homework?”

But I remember that question from before, from when I was small

About five or so, less than 4 feet tall

But taller if I pointed my tippy toes

Which is why when the inevitable question arose I said I wanted to be 

A Ballerina.

Until I realized I only took one dance class a week

And the job market for dancers was incredibly weak 

So I dropped that dream and began the search for a new

Realistic one.

And I still did my ballet, but just for fun.

I stopped when I was 12 because it interfered with school

Cool. 

So I started high school, took quiz after test

To help decide my career and figure out the rest 

With only fifteen survey questions, and I tried my best

But the results always read as follows:

Actor, lawyer, marketer, writer, computer programmer, music therapist, regular therapist, professional athlete, and food stylist.

And that was just the start of the list.

I googled stats, salaries and books

Made comparisons, found schools with a convincing hook

And after years of deliberation

I took a look at my choices not of my own creation

And I made a decision.

“What are your future plans?” 

Well, I’m 17 now

And I don’t have an answer because I can imagine how

My gravestone will read “Loving sister, daughter, and friend”

Not “A talented architect until the end”

And I have never read an obituary 

That only mentions the deceased was a secretary

It’s true:

People won’t remember you 

For what you did and didn’t do

From nine to five, five days a week

But they’ll remember what you loved, or the dimple on your cheek

They’ll tell stories to their friends of when you were wasted

Or your famous pie recipe and how amazing it tasted

They’ll remember your laugh and the strength of your shoulder

From leaning on it when their world was colder

It’s also true, you do need money to survive

But without love, and purpose, are you even alive?

Listen, for I have a bold new suggestion

When someone asks that loaded question

Answer honestly, with clear diction

And a calm voice that doesn’t hide your conviction

“When you get out of school, what do you want to be?”

All you need is one word:

“Me.”