For as long as I can remember, I’ve always known one thing for sure. One day, I want to be really successful and rich. I want to be the CEO of a company. I want to have enough money to bore myself into the state of zero temptation altogether. Sure, every other person has such a goal. Sure, people laugh. It somehow never mattered. It somehow was never that far-fetched.
Over the years, it took better shape in my head. I knew what I liked, what I wanted. I knew how and when it would be. And it wasn’t forced. I could see it. A profession I loved, was genuinely interested in, was naturally keen to grow and live in. Every decision in life somehow eventually logically traced itself back to that.
That word that I live for. That omnipotent factor in my life.
Perhaps this would be a good time to mention that I wasn’t living in some dream world where I would be happy and rich and loved. There was always a trade off. And I was very clearly aware of it. You don’t just become a CEO by getting married and staying at home. You don’t have time to cook and look after your family. Popping kids isn’t a priority in your life anymore. I was always painfully aware of it. Just that it didn’t seem like too big a sacrifice to me. I never was interested in any of them to begin with. These things were always just ‘To-do’s’ to be ticked off somewhere in the long list of life. Technicalities. Hygiene factors.
And then things changed.
I somehow popped the bubble I was living in.
I decided to grow up.
I decided to actually give myself a chance.
I decided to believe in the Chopsuey Theory.
I want to be home now. I want to have a happy personal life. I want to have a family, and I want to love them and be loved in return. I want to cook for them. I want to do everything in my power to protect them. From the world. From the idiotic child that used to reside in me.
I smile now. All the time. Like a complete idiot.
I want it to stay that way, forever.
I know I’ll still do well in life. I know I still won’t sit at home popping lil babies all over the place.
But I also know.
That I’ll be happy.
That I’ll live.
And not just exist.