I was having the most depressing conversation with two girlfriends the other night. We were asking each other what we secretly wished we were doing with our lives. Friend A (the corporate lawyer) really wanted to be a National Geographic photographer. Friend B (a corporate contractor) thought she wanted to go back into politics, but wasn’t really sure because she is so tired and confused about being a working mom, she can’t really figure it out. I now realize that not getting into medical school should not have ended my desire to “help others.” I wish I had become a clinical psychologist.

And yes, I am noticing this trend of using “wanted” vs. “wants.” Which is what made the entire discussion so sad—by age 40, we have already given up on our dreams and have just accepted who we are. We tell our children that they can be whatever they want, the sky is the limit, so dream big, and yet we have stopped dreaming for ourselves.

What’s up with that?

It’s not like this is the 1800s where we:

a)      have no options to go to school or get a different job

b)      have a life expectancy of about 50

c)      have to wear horribly heavy, binding clothes (although haven’t we really just exchanged “the corset” for “the Spanx?”) that make us too tired to want to do anything but play Solitaire and read by the fire

In theory, all of us 40-year-old-ish women are only half-way through our lives.

So, in honor of this epiphany, I have decided to celebrate that it ONLY took me 40 years to figure out what I want to do with my life. And I urge you to do the same. Or, at least respond to this post and tell us all what YOU wanted to be when you grew up, and we can all be sad and 40-ish together.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 5th, 2010 at 2:15 pm and is filed under Weekly Thought. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.