Who will you become?

When I was eight and people asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d respond almost subconsciously.
“A princess!” I’d boast with absolute certainty.

Where did that decisiveness go?

How was it that, at such a young age—with so little experience and much less understanding of the world—I could answer so confidently?

And now, with all I’ve seen and learned, the question seems heavier, almost impossible to answer.

We’re told that by the age of seventeen, we should have everything figured out.

That our future should be meticulously planned down to the last detail.

But how can anyone be expected to condense something as vast, unpredictable, and deeply personal as a life  into one short answer?

It feels impossible. And yet, when looking back, almost every adult remembers a childhood obsession—one impossibly specific dream job that once felt like their one and only destiny.

Ask the 56-year-old corporate lawyer, and he’ll remember wanting to be a pirate. Ask the newly hired doctor, and her face will light up, reminiscing about how she once dreamed of exploring space.

All different dreams, yet they seem to follow the same story.

At one point, we all knew.

Maybe it was the openness of the youthful mind, the way we let ourselves get lost in bedtime stories and fairytales.
Maybe it was that beautiful dichotomy of childhood: knowing so little, yet believing we knew everything.

But somewhere along the way, reality started to destroy that boldness. Deadlines replaced daydreams. Interviews replaced imagination.

Now, people dread driving to work. They resent their routines, envy their coworkers, and forget the thrill of becoming something.

But what if the key to fulfilment isn’t this detailed life plan or a prestigious label?

What if, instead, it’s about remembering?

Remembering that eight year old boy or girl.
Remember the ambition, the creativity, the unapologetic imagination.
Reclaiming it—not to become a princess or a fireman, but to become someone who chooses with the heart too.

Maybe empowerment doesn’t begin with knowing all the answers.
Maybe it begins by daring to believe in the ones we once had.