It’s a question we’ve all asked ourselves at least once. If you say you haven’t, you’re a liar. Unless you knew from the beginning what kind of person you wanted to be, the job you wanted to have, and the life you wanted to live, you’ve asked yourself who you are, or who you were going to be. Maybe it wasn’t the exact word, maybe it wasn’t even a question, but you’ve at least thought about the answer. We don’t go about our lives automatically knowing what we’re going to do, how we’re going to act, or how we’re going to feel. All of those are questions we must discover the answers to.
When I was a kid, I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian. I believed so whole-heartedly that taking care of sick and injured pets was what I wanted to do with my life, but now? Now, there’s no way I could ever be a vet. Yes, I love animals and I’m very good with them, but I don’t love school. I’ve always had a difficult time when it comes to academics that didn’t include art or music. That probably had more to do with my undiagnosed ADHD and strict mother that didn’t bother to even try and understand my mental health than school itself, but the result is the same: I despise school.
I never thought my feelings towards education would change but school can be quite enjoyable when I’m learning something that interests me. This realization hit me within the first week of attending art school; most of my classes are all about a topic I enjoy or am at least intrigued by. There is one certain class that seems a bit pointless to me but, for the most part, I look forward to attending my classes. I even get excited about Drawing I, the class I struggle with the most because I’m a photography major and can barely draw a stick figure! The truth of the matter is, I never hated school. I simply loathed the circumstances in which I had to attend.
As I stated before, I had undiagnosed ADHD until about a year ago. I could never pay attention during class and failed to complete homework assignments. English was one of the worst classes in terms of my attention span. As soon as I was able to read, I became obsessed with books and writing. I started creating stories when I was still in elementary school and by the time, I was a middle schooler, I already knew everything they were trying to teach me. This led to a lot of conflict between me and my teachers as I would write or read rather than pay attention to their lecture, which was ironic considering the focus of the class. My teachers still liked me after the fact, too, because I always had some of the best work (when I decided to turn it in).
My mother never understood my ADHD, or any other of my disorders. From early on in my childhood to high school, doctors and counselors alike wanted me to get tested for it, but my mother refused to believe such a thing even exists. She claimed it was an “excuse” for me to not do my work and that I was just like every other kid my age. Funnily enough, she said the same thing regarding my anxiety and depression. I remember thinking, at the time, does every kid really feel this way? And if so, what kind of world do we live in if that’s considered “normal?” I figured from the start that what she said was bullshit, but I couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion that part of it could be true.
I spent a lot of time wondering if I was normal or if something was indeed wrong with me. I had a therapist that I could talk to about this, but they always wanted to speak to my mom as well so relying on them was pointless to me. She always told them I “made up my problems” during the car ride on the way there. I didn’t make them up, I just couldn’t talk about them. Aside from my mother, there wasn’t anybody willing to listen to me. Anytime I tried to reach out for someone to help, my pleas fell on deaf ears. It was like this since I was kid and I told myself I didn’t mind the lack of attention, but I couldn’t fight away the loneliness.
Up until my eighteenth birthday, I was practically clueless as to what I wanted to do with my life. I never put much thought into it, always thinking I’d die before anything good ever happened. But once I became an adult and graduated high school—which I barely did—I realized that life is what I want, not what others expect it to be. My mom wasn’t in control of me anymore. I was able to seek help for the issues that have been plaguing me throughout most of my life without her involvement. I got tested and diagnosed with ADHD and I’m now on medication for it. I also decided to pursue my dream career and go to school for photography. Sure, it took a couple years for me to decide that it’s what I really want to do, but it was a choice worth thinking over and I don’t regret a second of it.
I understand that life is ever-changing and that there will be ups and downs, that I will not always be happy with what I’m doing. Even so, where I am now—surrounded by friends and fulfilling my aspirations as a creator—is where I belong.
This is who I am, and I can’t wait to see who I will become.
