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I Want To Be


“I want to write comics, I want to help write a Netflix show, I want to be a writer, a creative.”

“I want people to know who I am.”

“I want to live in New York City.”

“I want to have local friends, I want to find my niche, I want to be independent, I want to be out of here.”

“I want to be—”

“But I’m not.” i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m not.

Maybe it’s just me who gets pulled into the vortex of I want to be. Maybe it’s me who has the future she wants and hates the gap between that and now.

Maybe it’s just me with one foot and five tired fingers grasping some image of where I’m going to be, where I want to be, where I need to be. But I don’t think it’s just me at all.

I want to be.

I’m not. there’ll be years and years and years and years before i am, there’ll be struggles and struggles and struggles and *insert endless anxiety loop here*


There’s nothing like it to make me feel tiny and insignificant and young and a thousand miles away from the future I want so desperately. I won’t be happy until then, I tell myself. That’s when I’ll have made it. That’s when I’ll be comfortable. I’ll be fine when I move out, when I live in a big city, when I’m writing/creating for a living. This is just a temporary inconvenience, a necessity until I get there.

This, where I am right now — the shaky 16-year-old girl with only a little money and no connections — doesn’t matter all that much. “Real life” feels like heaven, a someday dream that hasn’t come true yet. I just have to wait patiently until I can be comfortable and happy and in my element.

Right now, I’m trapped where I don’t want to be, wedged into a space where I don’t fit, and it’s miserable.

And I’m not what or where I want to be. At all.

(I’m not productive. I’m not busy. I’m not happy. I’m not in love with my job. I don’t live where I should be living, where I need to be.)

This isn’t right. That’s the feeling I get, the thing I tell myself. Until I close the gap and get to where I want to be, become who I want to be, I’m doing it wrong. I’m a horrible miserable lazy unproductive failure of a person. I haven’t beaten my mental illness yet, so I’m crippled, too, and none of this is ideal, none of this is me, the real Aimee, who I’m supposed to be.

Supposed to be.

I have this attitude more often than I’d care to admit. I don’t notice it creeping in so much as I occasionally manage to break out of it and try to slap myself silly, because...it’s ridiculous to hold myself to the standard of who I “should be”. It’s not ridiculous to have goals, of course. But there’s a special kind of crazy in pushing myself to tears because this isn’t right, this isn’t who I really am, and I can’t be happy unless I’m that thing that’s supposed to be happening.

That is, to speak eloquently, complete and total garbage.

I am who I am now.

It’s enough, maybe, to be content with being instead of being what I should be.

It’s enough, it’s okay, for me to not be where I’m supposed to be. It’s okay if I’m not in the ideal situation yet.

It’s okay if I’m not old enough to do all the things I want to do, or live on my own, and it’s okay if I’m not working a different job. My happiness and what I can do is not determined by where I am. I can’t control that. All I can control is me, and how I react to what’s around me, and how I work with what I have.
This is a messy collection of thoughts, but bear with me, because I kind of feel like it’s important. I need to remember it more often. (Maybe that’s a thing to try this year.)

We are where we are for a reason.

We are in the season of life we are in for a reason. There are no skip-forwards here. No shortcuts. All we can do is be the very best version of the thing are now...and we can be content with being that. We don’t need to be me-of-the-future, or ten years down the road, than to change and be happy now. If we’re constantly waiting for the situation to be right, we’re going to be screwed, because that’s never going to happen. You’re always going to be looking for the next thing, the next “perfect” stage of life, and that’s not a thing, to put it simply.

(Have you lost me yet? I’ve lost me.)

Take a deep breath. I’ll try to take one too.

You are in the stage you are in for a reason. This, right here, is what you’re supposed to be now at this current moment.

You can work with that.

Just be.

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