When I Grow Up

When I was five years old I wanted to be a mermaid. You know- swim all day, sing melodies and comb my hair with forked seashells. Save handsome, drowning sailors from a watery grave. It seemed like a plush life to me back then. When I was twelve I wanted to be a newscaster. I marveled at how they read a teleprompter while barely moving their eyes. That took talent! It amazed me that they remained unemotional. Reporting a heinous mass murder and the Groundhog seeing his shadow with the same deadpan expression. When I was seventeen, I wanted to be a cosmetologist. I liked making things (not necessarily people, mind you) look pretty. By the time I was twenty, I had NO idea what I wanted to be anymore. You see, for a long time I was not allowed to be anything other than a daughter, friend, sister, significant other. I invested all of my time into relationships because I had nothing else to shoot for. The ambition was there but the opportunities were wrapped in the reddest of tape. In this country, I was considered 'persona non grata'. My circumstances are so different now. I can travel the world, attend school, work where I please (on-the-books) and go wherever a fateful wind may take me. The irony in that? These days...I just want to be a mermaid.