Share:

“What will you be when you grow up?” people asked me. I always smiled and told them, “I want to be a good person.” Sometimes they laughed. Maybe they thought it was a strange answer. Maybe they expected me to say a doctor, a teacher, an artist, a pilot, or something that sounded important. I knew my answer would take the laughter out of their faces, but deep inside, I didn’t really know what I wanted to be. I was just a child.

When I was little, I had dreams. They were small dreams, yet big dreams. But somehow, I learned that dreams are not always something you get to keep. Sometimes, you have to put them down and pick something else up. I had to let go of some of my dreams to help my little brother. I do love him, more than I can explain. I would do many things for him. But sometimes I wonder, “Am I still allowed to be a child too? Am I allowed to want things for myself? Am I allowed to dream when someone I love needs me?”

People say dreams are the things that shape us. They say our dreams give us direction, give us hope, and help us become who we are meant to be. But what happens when you don’t have the chance to dream? What happens when your dreams become responsibilities? What happens when you are too busy thinking about someone else’s tomorrow to think about your own?

Sometimes, I look at other people and wonder how easily they can talk about their future. They know what they want to become. They have plans. They have pictures in their heads of the life they want. And I wonder, “Why don’t I have that? Maybe there is something wrong with me.” Or maybe I have simply spent so much time surviving the present that I never had enough time to imagine the future.

My parents gave me life, and I know they have their own struggles, worries, and dreams too. Maybe growing up means understanding that adults don’t always have all the answers. Maybe they are also just trying to figure out what to do with the lives they were given.

So, what do I do? I don’t know. Maybe I start small. Maybe I will stop asking myself what I will be and start asking myself who I want to be. Maybe I can still dream. Maybe my dreams are not gone. Maybe they are just waiting somewhere inside me, quietly waiting for the day when I am ready to find them again.

And if someone asks me again, “What will you be when you grow up?” maybe this time I will not be afraid to say, “I don’t know yet. But I hope I become someone who is kind. Someone who helps. Someone who remembers what it felt like to be a child with a dream. And, most importantly, someone who becomes a good person.”