I sat on the couch, listening to my little brother read one of his bedtime stories about the wonders of space. His hands drifted across the page, flipping all the pop-up cards that held information on the other side. I saw the gears turning in his head and admired his curious nature. As I held him close I began to wonder where my hopes and dreams went.
They were so childish, no wonder I forgot about them.
But in my arms was a child, and as I looked into his eyes I saw no reason why he couldn’t do anything he wanted to. He had his whole life ahead of him and he was full of promise. So why couldn’t I see that in myself?
As kids, when grownups would ask us what we wanted to be, we always told them what it was with confidence. As if it was a choice, not a possibility. I wanted to be a princess who made and acted in her movies, owned a library, and a restaurant, and even did hair and makeup for celebrities.
What a stupid idea.
The summer before freshman year I was a nervous wreck. What am I going to wear? What if I can’t make any friends? Should I wear makeup or not? A million things ran through my mind every time someone even mentioned the word “school.” But an existential crisis was not one of them.
After the first semester, I felt defeated. I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life, and I was so sure that I could accomplish it. But then “reality” got to me and I realized that everything I’ve wanted since I can remember was nothing more than a dream. By the end of the year, I felt like I would amount to nothing, and I began to set more “realistic” life goals for myself. I felt worthless, and I lost sight of what my dream even was. In fact, I didn’t dream at all. I had no goals, no aspirations, and it seemed like everyone else knew what they were going to do with their life except for me.
It got so bad that my depression was at an all-time high, and nothing felt worth doing anymore. I threw myself many pity parties, watching Greta Gerwig’s “Little Women” over and over again just to hear Amy March say “I want to be great or nothing.” Because if I couldn’t amount to anything absolutely amazing, then what was the point of life? I blamed the world for letting me think I could be anything I wanted to be as a kid.
They fed me false hope.
But then I made a friend that changed everything.
We became closer friends in the second semester, but I had known him since the first couple of days of school. Something about him intrigued me; he was a bit strange but in a good way, and eventually, I learned how smart he was. He turned out to be a super-genius who never stopped learning, and I just knew he was the type that would actually change the world one day.
One day, he shared some advice with me that I have strived for every day since the moment he told it to me. It was like the super special secret ingredient in a family dish that your parents only tell you once you’re old enough to keep it. He encouraged me to be more ambitious and to keep the eyes of a child — to stay as creative and hopeful as I was when I was a kid, because that is something most people lose as they grow older, so to have that and nurture that part of yourself can take you places most people wouldn’t even dream of going.
That was his secret. This was the puzzle piece I was missing, and it was truly life-changing.
He’s now one of my best friends, and still the most intelligent person I know. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be as much of a “try-hard” as I am today. Keeping this mindset has helped me be more open-minded to new experiences and helped me learn that I’m really passionate about chemistry and certain topics in STEM. I have bigger hopes than before, and I’ve learned to be excited to learn! (Cheesy, I know.) Because if I really want it, why can’t I do anything I set my mind to?
So… because ya girl doesn’t gate-keep, I’m gonna share what I’ve learned with you. Your inner child is your secret superpower. USE. IT. Maintaining that sense of creativity that you had when you were a child when you felt like you could be anything you wanted, is a gift that people seldom have. Keep that ambition, stay hopeful, and set big goals for yourself. You would have so much untapped potential if only you would see the world the way you did as a kid.
The other day, my little brother was talking about how he has a plan to stop supermassive black holes. He wants to be an inventor when he grows up, and he’s already chalked up countless ideas on how to make the world a better place. I took a pause, and for a brief moment, flashes of my childhood took over my thoughts. As I bounced back into real life, I smiled and squeezed him tight.
Then I told him I’d be right by his side when he became the first person ever to do it.
