The Dreaded Question

"So, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do? What do you do for fun?"

The most dreaded and horrifying question in the world. I cringe every time someone asks me this. Seeing as how I have moved three times just in a matter of three and a half months, I have had the opportunity to answer this question many many times recently. Unfortunately, it has not gotten easier. Perhaps it has become worse.

I usually stare at the person who genuinely wants to get to know me. I begin to sink into my chair and bury my head as if my shirt may happen to sneak some possible lines I can use. I usually end up mumbling something about two kids and that is pretty much all I do. I stagger over fragments of sentences that usually include something about going to the gym, trying to learn how to sew, interested in photography, and occasionally scrap booking when I find the time. They smile and nod and move on their merry way. I am left feeling dumb.

Really? Do I really have nothing to say to that? How have I gotten to this point? "Tell me about yourself." "Uh......." Have I really ended up at the age of twenty-five with no ambitions, no hobbies, no talents I can name of, and no passions in life? That's just pathetic. Two kids or not, that is just pathetic.

I look at those around me with dreams and goals they are pursuing, passions that drive them forward, and accomplishments they can be proud of. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I haven't accomplished anything and have no talents, but I just feel stagnant. Sometimes I marvel about the fact that I am only twenty-five. At times I feel like I could seriously be forty-five. That is sad to me. These are my glory years. So, it is high time I started on my journey to self-discovery.

We have been focusing monthly during family night on goal setting. While Roland has done phenomenal with setting and accomplishing goals, I have come up slacking. What is the difference? This was the topic of a long discussion the two of us had last night. I have no passion. This is not new to me. I grew up interested and intrigued by things but I don't ever really remember loving something so much that I just had to do it.

Like any kid, I enjoyed playing outdoors, playing pretend, and doing all the normal things a young child should do. I began taking piano and while I enjoyed it, I didn't love it. The closest I think I got to that was dance. I really liked to dance. I took tap and ballet at the tender age of 6 or 7ish. I continued with jazz and tap up until I was 11 or so. I had a lot of fun. I considered joining the dance team in high school but it intimidated me because I really wasn't that good and I was far too nerdy to do a thing like that. So, that was the end of my dancing years.

Moving forward, I engrossed myself in school. Like I mentioned before, I was a nerd. It was like I measured my worth as a person by how well I did in school. I would not fail - and I must say, I was quite good. I accepted nothing less than straight A's. I woke up, went to school, came home from school, studied, and went to bed. That was my life. I'm not really sure why I wasn't encouraged to find sources of extra-curricular fun (perhaps I was but I have blocked those out), but my life revolved around school. Not a bad thing by any means, but not necessarily fulfilling either.

In addition to enveloping myself in studying, I was forced to grow up early when my parents divorced and I took on the mother role to my younger siblings - especially to my sister who was only seven at the time. Even before the divorce I can remember countless evenings spent at the bedside of my younger sister, reading stories to her and comforting her through her tears of loneliness and sadness as we tried to cope with what was going on around us. Not what I would call extra-curricular activities for a 11-14 year old, however I would not have traded it for anything. I am to this day grateful that I could be that support to her. It means the world to me.

High school was much of the same. Studying, studying, parenting, studying. Granted, I did have my fun too. I did start to "break out of my shell" by about junior year and had a lot of amazing friends. But, I still lacked passion. Picking a college major was a chore. "Choose something you are passionate about," people would always say. That's my problem! I resorted to pre-nursing as the medical field was always something that intrigued me - and it challenged me. I liked to be challenged. But, even as I was in classes, I had a difficult time really focusing and learning the material because my heart wasn't truly in it. I tried, but it was just not there. I switched at least three more times before I finally finished my degree in management. I copped out. It was the fastest and easiest way to get done. Pathetic. I feel no sense of accomplishment for obtaining my bachelor's degree - that is sad to me. I don't feel like I pushed myself at all.

So, here I am with a bachelor's degree, a marvelous husband, and two beautiful children. I should feel fulfilled. But, I don't. So, this is the beginning of my path to discovering myself. I am determined to do it. After twenty-five years, I won't cringe when I hear the words, "Who are you?  What do you like to do?"  I will find my passion.