Childhood Dreams

I had many childhood dreams of what "success" looked like for me, but the below scenario was the highest recurring ideal.

When I was younger, I would close my eyes and imagine my older, much cooler self living a life of "success" as a star. I would envision being backstage, holding a microphone with my freshly painted black fingernails while taking a few deep breaths before entering the stage, the sold-out arena bursting in adoring screams. In my daydreams, my hair was interspersed with braids that flowed back and forth as I ran around the stage wearing the trendiest clothes that showed my midriff. I pictured my life as a popstar living in New York or Los Angeles, either with an amazing view of Time Square or the ocean respectively. I would have the coolest clothes at my fingertips at all times, specifically flare jeans with sequin accents in every possible shade of blue denim. I also pictured having slumber parties with other stars, such as Hillary Duff and Miley Cyrus. In my young mind, success equaled fame.

As I grew older and eventually went to college, I quickly realized singing was not my gig. I started to shift my dreams of “success” into working with celebrities rather than becoming one. That way, at least I was surrounded by fame. I wouldn’t say that I’m haunted by my preadolescent dreams, but it does sadden me that I’ll never know what it truly feels like to perform on tour or to be a musician in this lifetime. Working for concert venues has gotten me closer to that experience, but not at the firsthand level my inner child longed for. Now, I love my life as a creative writer and PR specialist, securing interviews for advocates and thought leaders, while writing meaningful stories for lifestyle publications.