CNF: Child Like Dreams

Title: Child-Like Dreams

I’ve always had big dreams. When I was a child, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I often tell people that the years in between were lost years when I let others tell me what’s best and that I’m finally back on track. It’s true. I wrote my first story when I was seven years old and I knew I wanted to become an author. In high school, I let my parents convince me to change my mind. My mother always knew I loved to write but told me those were child-like dreams. Childish dreams. She said I needed to do something that made money and that “writer’s don’t make money, they struggle, and they can barely pay their bills” and with my soul beaten down, The Great Change happened: I went to school for architecture.

After steps taken backward, and some forward, I found myself 10 years later without a degree, in a new state, fortunately estranged from my family, and unsure of my future and the goals therein. I thought, “why not?” Then there I was, enrolling in school to pick up with the child in me left off: Back at University to become a writer.

Recently, I wrote a piece for an University magazine titled “10 Years Late to University: I don’t Belong Here But I Belong Here” about my experience with being a new mother as well as being a student again, after years in the workforce. It mostly covered my emotions after I enrolled, I had completely overlooked the rest of the story. The Beginning.

When I was seven years old I was already reading the classics, adult books, and fantasy chapter stories. They allowed me to escape the constant barrage of memories circling abuse, neglect, and abandonment dealt to me. I filled my soul with Melusine, The Westing Game, Summer of my German Soldier and The Golden Compass.

In these stories, I thought I had the answer to the rest of my life. I was overwhelmed with the idea of being a writer and wrote my first story. I’ll never forget the joy that filled me when my main characters came to life on the page. A cat and a dog, who were best friends, go on an adventure. It was the simplest plot. The dog died, having been injured, and the cat was unbelievably sad. She spent her days and nights moping over her dead friend, afraid to go on any future adventures. Then, the dog came back to life and the cat was rejuvenated.

As silly as this feels, it was a pivotal moment for me. I didn’t realize, until I became an adult, that this was my way to interpret my own feelings of loss after our family dog, Pepper, died horrifically. After watching my biological brother, and my adoptive nephew, jump the fence many times Pepper jumped while we were at church – not realizing that she still had the chained collar around her neck. A man who had been driving by spotted the dog, knocked on the door, and told my father what he had found. Although they tried to be secret, my brother and I were in hiding and watched as our dog was lifted from where she hung and buried in the backyard.

In this story, I was the cat who couldn’t deal with the loss of the only person who loved her unconditionally. The cat dealt with the same issues with abandonment that I struggled with, that I still struggle with, and wasn’t able to recover on her own. I knew that in the real world animals, and people, couldn’t come back to life but when it came to my writing anything could happen.

Anything. As an adult this felt like a way for me to be ok with the memories of someone after they’ve gone, whether unwilling through death or wiling through my growth. I didn’t realize that in an odd way, I was writing nonfiction.

Ironically, the person who crushed my dreams of becoming a writer, and made me change my mind about my prospective college major when I was in high school, was the same person who tried to crush my writing spirit. My adoptive mother. I let her read this five page story and she destroyed it. She told me animals couldn’t talk, that they didn’t go on adventures, that cats and dogs would never be best friends, and that – most importantly – no one, absolutely no one, ever came back to life.

I was angry and told her that I could write whatever I wanted because it was my book. My writing. I told her I never wanted her to read anything I wrote, ever again. I vowed, that day, to become a writer. I was more determined than ever to create worlds where impossible things could happen. I wanted to write books where the dead would rise, unlikely pairs would come together, and adventures would abound.

Over those years, I would daydream about becoming a professor with a messenger bag and a notebook filled with ideas and inspirations. I dreamed of having a cabin where I could escape the world, and its tragic intricacies, and write novels. I also wanted an apartment in the city where I could live when doing readings and signings at bookstores for all my bestselling works. Boy, wasn’t I ambitious.

Now, ten years after The Great Change, after the shit show that was my first time in college, after I let others push me down and trample my dreams, and destroy my spirit, I am back here. I enrolled at the University and now I’m close to graduation. I will be going to grad school next year. I will publish in both nonfiction and fiction. I will become a professor and I will finally fulfill my child-like dreams.

Happy Ending’s Day!

So, I don’t celebrate any holidays. Not any traditional ones at least. I hate most of them due to past experiences or downfalls. I just have stayed away from them in general. On the other side, I do want to celebrate something annually to keep me looking forward. Thus a few years ago I devised my own holidays. Two days a year I reflect, remember, acknowledge and make goals. Two days a year I take time out to congratulate myself for the things I’ve accomplished, feel sadness over loss or regrets and make plans for the next six months. I do a little exercise, a little yoga, and drink a lot of water to purify. I chose to use the middle of the year, June and the last Saturday of the month. This year Midway’s Day was June 25th. I also take the end of the year, December and the last Saturday. This year Ending’s Day was December 26th. It seems silly but if you ever celebrated it with me you would understand.

Today we reflect on the last six months. So, as some of you might know, I’m going to school to become a Stylist. This has been more so an undiscovered dream of mine until now. The weird thing is, with the way I grew up, everyone always felt like I was this selfish person and maybe I was. Maybe I was stuck in my own little world of anger and hurt. Maybe I was a selfish child, most of them are. But somewhere, in my mind, I’ve always thought one day I would help people. I have always dreamed of being a writer. An author of amazing adventures to take my readers to different worlds with different problems outside of their own. I still have that dream and I fulfill it every time I finish a new novel. I then had the passion to be an Architect. I wanted to help design shelters and homes for those unfortunate and unfortunately for me, the lack of funds put that dream to a screeching halt.

Then I spent some time floating in the world of working to survive. Holding down a job because it meant I had the luxury to eat steak, go out with my closest friend and buying whatever I wanted. Then after a move to a new state…driving 18 hours to move, I floated for a time in savings. I met the love of my life (WARNING- mushiness) and settled back into working. After tragedy struck, I had to have something to pick myself back up, to keep me moving and I’m still trying to do so. My guy encouraged that I check out Aveda. He’d noticed my inability to stop watching hair videos, my constant advise and frustration that others wouldn’t listen to me because I don’t have a license and etc. He threatened to harass me about it until I at least made an effort to look at the website and I did.

I fell in love with Aveda almost instantly. I loved the photography of the webpage, the honesty and philanthropy of the mission and what the company stood for. Surprisingly, I also loved the fact that there are private owners.  I watched all the videos on the website, I watched the testimonials and the Youtube stories of Aveda students (good and bad) and I was hooked. I made an appointment to tour the school right away and I knew I wanted to go as soon as I stepped in. My main reason I could give…it was clean.

I knew that I wanted to make people happy. I wanted to contribute to making someone feel confident, sexy, gorgeous and at their best. I also have purely selfish reasons (:D) of making art out of someone’s hair, being able to look at a masterpiece of color and shine and saying that is mine, learning all the different cuts and bringing my own spin to a modernized one length triangle. I just…am so ready!

Now that it’s “winter” break, I am taking the time to enjoy my off days even though I’m still working. I just made up and ordered new business cards. I cracked open my textbook early so I can be ahead of the game when I start the next phase. I am starting to recruit models for a photo-shoot I want to do so that I can enter and attend the Beacon Awards in Las Vegas this summer.

I’ve also thought of the relationships that have transformed or ended in the last six months. I think of those I am no longer friends with or family I no longer speak to due to disloyalty, dishonesty, to me realizing that I’ve been used or treated poorly, to the ones who stopped talking to me because I moved away, to me realizing that I was the only one making an effort to keep our friendship/relationship alive, to me outgrowing them as a person, to them outgrowing me as a person, to those who judged me and those who trashed me because of my miscarriage. I think of my guy who I love and hold close to my heart. He has been so supportive of me. To those who held my hand during my grief and those who gave me encouragement to move on and hold my head up. I reflect on growing and soothing my soul.

That seemed so down and sad but to pump things back up: I am so ready to continue this new part of my life and I will be sharing it as I go along. I have a lot on my plate what with the book review blog, writing my new novel, my natural hair and Vlog life Youtube channel and keeping myself sane at work while learning new coloring and cutting techniques at school but I can do it. I have always been a strong person and with my new motto and mantra I will achieve all the goals I set out for. I’ve loosely set goals for hair growth, for retaining school knowledge, for losing weight and being healthy and de-stressing for the next six months!

Thanks for being apart of my reflection day!

“IF THINGS DON’T GO AS PLANNED…CHANGE THE PLAN.”

Jade