Growing up I always aspired to be a teacher. I would congregate all of the stuffed animals and baby dolls I owned, making them ‘pay attention’ as I scribbled nonsense on one of my many white boards. My toys soon turned into my actual pets staring at me blankly and then into my friends, family, and anyone who would listen. I loved the idea of spreading thoughts, love, lessons, and ideas with those around me, even at the age of six.
As I grew, school became an outlook where I could focus and where I felt like I fit in. I always worked well with others and various skill sets. I loved children my age and younger while constantly craving adult relationships with those around me. It wasn’t until after my tenth birthday when my life began to shift.
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There was absolutely nothing more rewarding than the work I did with and for those children. Not only was I able to identify their needs and wants, I additionally partook in the difficult family dynamics that came along. My eyes were opened to a new realm and furthermore a whole new set of possible occupations to choose from. Those children not only make me being to feel alive, they were the most amazing teachers in their own special way. When teaching others especially those who learn differently than most, you don’t expect them to also teach you. At that point in time I knew I wanted to work with children, however, I let the voices and thoughts of others continue to dictate how I defined what my future would be and teaching didn’t seem like the right route. Years past and my education, wants, and dreams became something of less priority. My weight continued to rise and my appreciation of young exploration was nonexistent. Life becomes easy to fall into, simply going through the motions day in and day out, almost mindlessly. That is what I had become, a monotonous character floating through existence. I lost my voice, vision, and any ideas of what would make me happy in