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I love to write. When I was smaller I would write short stories, poetry and screen plays. Yes I said it, when others were outside riding bikes and scraping knees, I was inside listening to Ultimate Chaos (remember them) and writing screen plays which of course always conveniently had a role for moi. I always wanted to work in a role that allowed me to share my passion for the written and spoken word. I wanted to be able to tell people I was a writer. Of what, a book, scripts, newspaper articles, was yet to be decided but I was only about 11 at the time so you can’t chastise me for being somewhat vague!
As I got older, I was swayed by the allure and excitement of the glass and steel world of Banking, my Mum moved from the City over to the Docklands and the buildings she worked in always blew me away. I knew working as an author wouldn’t give me a chance to walk into those amazing marble walled buildings on a daily basis, so suddenly my brain changed gears and focussed on becoming an Analyst. Of what exactly I was never too sure but as long as I could ‘analyse’ something within a fast paced executive world of power suits, multiple screens and business lunches it would be ok.
As luck would have it I now find myself in the Financial Services industry, in a glass and steel building with a gorgeous marble foyer. The days of power suits may be over but the other two boxes are ticked. It’s not as fast paced as I’d have thought. Not so glam, glitzy and alluring as it had seemed as a teen. More dog eat dog, he said she said, people whose attitudes would get them fired in most other professions are praised (feared?) here and so it makes me wonder whether going with that first thought, following ones original passion is the best way to go.
I’m not sure how many people end up being what they dreamt of being age 10, or if circumstances and fate played a hand in directing them down alternate career paths. It would be interesting to know though, what it is you wanted to be when you were younger and whether you were able to achieve it in adult life.
I don’t get paid to blog but I do write on my blog, some people read what I write so can I qualify as a writer, even if only to myself? If so, in some round-about way I’ve managed to achieve my childhood dreams, which is a mighty big achievement. What do you think guys?
