I realized, after my last post, that I do not what to be a photojournalist. Shocking, yes. That’s what I essentially wanted to study in college. That was the purpose of all those papers I had to write. But alas, although I love photography, that is not my life-calling.
When I was younger, I wanted to be a psychotherapist. I probably watched too many episodes of Oprah (back when the episodes really made you cry). In my ninth grade class, my teacher asked each student what they wanted to be. Seems like everyone who answered before me wanted to be the same thing. So I decided then and there that I didn’t want to do the same thing as everyone else. So from ninth grade on, I’ve wanted to be a photographer.
If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, oh what a rain that would be!
Fast forward ten years and now I’m saying that I’ve changed my mind. Feels like I’m back at the drawing board. At 25? #Comeonson. Like, really? I have friends my age already in their careers or almost finishing their Master’s programs. But I’ve never really been one to cry over what someone else has. It’s time that I make moves to achieve my own calling.
What calling is that, you ask? To be a motivating force in the lives of young girls.
And that’s all she wrote! Let the journey begin…