By Verona Mahilet
“Mom, Dad, I would like to be an artist when I grow up!”
This sentence was said by the five-year-old me to my parents. I well remember that day. I got out of school, my eyes full of enthusiasm. The only idea that dominated my mind at that very moment when I stepped in the front door of my home, was to show the object that brought light into my little world, a piece of art. It was not something extraordinary, just a fan-made Art of my favorite show of the moment, “Dragon Ball”.
The piece pictured all my favorite characters, Goku, Bulma, Chichi, Piccolo and Oolong. All placed in a specific way, Goku was on his magic cloud running away from Chichi while Oolong, behind them, was desperately trying to catch him up. Bulma, as for her, inconsiderate of her surroundings, was lying on a sun lounger enjoying her time. Then, finally Piccolo stood and observed the scene with an exasperated look on his face. This was portrayed in a funny way, and what made it even more funny was that this drawing seemed to be a messed-up selfie made by Master Roshi, as we could see a piece of his bald head coming into the frame. The background was also worked, just like Master Roshi Island.
As I said, the drawing wasn’t very special even though it was well done. I saw countless drawings before, some even better, but this one surprisingly finds its way through my heart. It was not the style of drawing, nor the perfect combination and arrangement of color; it was the process; it was the first time someone drew before my eye, not only was he drawing, but also integrating ideas I suggested into his art. “Could you make Chichi hold an immense sofa and about to throw it to Goku!?” He could realize everything that was in my mind, and this was so impressive to me. Naturally, when I came back from school, I couldn’t control the urge of excitement to reveal what I was meant to be to my parents, an illustrator.
I rushed into the kitchen, saw my dad working on his computer, found my way through its lap, holding still the treasure in my hand, and with a fast and determined move, thrust it toward his face. “Look, Daddy.” He couldn’t do anything more than admire the paper I held. “Amazing! Now go show it to your mother.” Satisfied with my action and with the response from dad, I went straight forward to my mom as well. While she was trying to serve the food on the table, I explained everything to her. The long days, the process, the ideas, how my baby came to earth, and her too, seemed to be happy with me. Then, as my last sentence, I said it louder, like a testament to engrave it into time’s memory.
“Mom, Dad, I want to be an artist when I grow up!”
I could see the disdain forming into their face, a smile, a laugh, I heard it from my dad, how he looked at me. “You are amazing, dear, but I wanted to be a drawer too when I was a child.” The implicit saying that my dream was meant to fade over time was repulsive and outrageous to me. I couldn’t believe what he said. At first, I had so many interrogations. “Why did you switch from your dream!?” “Why do you imply I will!?” I argued as much as a five-year-old brat could, trying to change his mind. He stood firmly on his experience; my voice shortened, my shoulder slumped, and my eyes about to shut, I could feel tears coming, replacing the light I had in me. Suddenly a voice stood up behind me: “If she says she wants, then she will!” My mom said, and I believed it. From that moment a pencil became my best friend.
Now I am 21 years old, and my ambition is to become a software engineer with machine learning expertise. It seems like I betrayed my younger self, all the effort I put into convincing my parents that she would never flinch from her “meant to be” went to waste, the long day and time put into improvements ended. I stopped, I drifted, I switched, and I came back countless times to finally land in the tech field. It seems like a sad story. My habit of always carrying my sketchbook starts progressively fading due to assumptions, then life priorities. Some would admire my drawing, call me talented, and at the same time, leave their faces progressively turning into sadness, “It will be complicated to live from your art.” This sentence was continual, and I ended up exhausted. I stopped drawing behind their attention. In my bedroom, far from their laudation eyes and demeaning mouth, I kept with my passion. Then, priorities came to play. Schools, relations, life struggles, they all decide on a consensus to come my way, and my pencil unfortunately got lost in the gaze.
I believe this happens to a lot of people: you had some things, a path that Younger You thought would never go away, but unfortunately it did, not on your own will, but just over time. It is more complicated than it seems; a lot of factors can come into play, and without even realizing it, you find yourself forgetting who you believed to be or pray to be. One important thing to know is that this turn can happen in different aspect; either through your personality “in my life I will never behave this way,” or a vision you cherished, “I want to bring peace into the word,” or even a simple fantasy like, “I want to be a superhero” or “…a princess.” You can’t explain it, but you lose it. Maybe you think this is not very important, it was just a child’s dream after all. You may be living a life you enjoy right now, but has never it happened to you before? You know, those situations where you are sitting or lying somewhere, an unknown or familiar place, far from society’s noises and fragments of your younger self though surfaced into your brain. What are your reactions to those moments? Personally, I couldn’t help but feel a little pinch in my heart. And if that’s the case for you, it might be a sign to reconnect with your inner self and genuinely aboard the conversation.
“Are you happy with who you are becoming?”
Ask this little child, “Are you proud of me?” I did it. I thought she would have been mad with me for leaving her dream unfulfilled and, let’s be honest, giving reason to her dad. But instead, she was sad, not because I left my pencil but because I didn’t truly understand her. The real reason she loved drawing was to freely give shape to her world, to make her imagination come to life; therefore, any career that requires creativity or expression will be her “odyssey”. Either I would have chosen to be a mangaka [artist who draws manga], architect or writer, she would have remained happy, as long as I didn’t grant my parent’s vision for me the power to take control over my life…, “lord! Imagine yourself being a doctor or lawyer, Verona, your client would have become the true victims of this story!” With software engineers as a career, she can make her design come true or help others see theirs’ materialized. Also, it embraces another facet she adores a lot – a riddle. Even though she isn’t particularly good at it, she enjoyed the reflection process behind it and can now find it here in problem solving. Talking with her allowed me to become reassured of the path I am following. And sometimes when I feel pressured, stressed and need to escape, I take a pencil and draw my universe.
As you can see from this story, reconnecting with my inner child gave me a hint in which area I can be fulfilled and the environment where I can find peace and relaxation, alone drawing my world. It presents more advantages than this; it is, for instance, the first step to know yourself better, then naturally make better decisions for your future self. Was your dream to be a princess? Have you ever thought of acting in movies or on stage? You can take it not only as a career but as a hobby too. Was your dream to be a superhero? Saving people is not only fighting monsters, but it can also be portrayed in volunteering for causes that matter to you and help people around you. For example, “to fly” across the ocean in a plane, bringing goods and resources to people who need them. I could keep going with the whole list, but I think you see the point: there is always a way to make the inner child’s dream or vision come true.
As for the person, the disconnection resides in the personality and behavior. I believe there is also a way for you to reconnect with yourself – the inner child might be able to help you realize things you would never thought of, or were struggling to admit before. It can be forgiveness, love, or any other aspects of yourself; you never know what you will discover. And this might turn into the answers you were waiting for.
In a society that immerses us in a rhythm we didn’t fully choose, being able to listen to this innocent part of yourself could help you to navigate, and then transform your reality into fulfillment, and in peace. At the end of the day, your inner child is… You, and still in you.
Note: The sentence “therefore, any career that requires creativity or expression will be her odyssey” suggests that this career isn’t just a job but is the personal journey of discovery and transformation. Odyssey is the title of a famous ancient Greek epic poem, The Odyssey, written by Homer (around the 8th century BCE). The main character of The Odyssey is Odysseus (called Ulysses in Latin).
