What do you want?

     "What do you want?"  This seems like a simple enough question.  We ask this question and are asked this question countless times every single day.  Hardly an hour passes in which we don't answer some form of this question whether it's "What do I want to eat for lunch?" or "what do I feel like wearing today?" or "what do I want to do tonight?"  But answering this general question is not always simple.  When you're a child, you're constantly asked, "what do you want to be when you grow up?"  And when you're a child you always seem to know the answer.  Your future seems so clear.  You think about what you'll be doing when you're twenty-five and you can pinpoint exactly what kind of job you'll have, the kind of husband you'll have, even the gender and names of your children (and of course, when you're little, twenty-five seems like an appropriate age at which to have your life, including these aspects all sorted).
     So, I will be twenty-five this upcoming June and my life is hardly sorted out. The details of what elementary-school-aged Morrisa thought adult Morrisa would be are a little unclear in my memory, but I know that at one point I thought I wanted to be an archaeologist (until I realized I don't like digging around in the dirt), at another point I thought I'd be a famous actress (oh wait, I can't act, oops) and there were a range of other dream occupations in between like movie director, famous journalist, etc.  But, fortunately, I can't complain about my job.  Actually, it's sort of funny.  Teaching is one of few occupations that I never considered.  In fact, even up until a couple years ago, if someone had asked me if I would consider being a teacher my usual response was "hell no!"  Granted, I never thought teaching adults was an option, and even at this point teaching children seems like an excruciating task.
     But can I do this for the rest of my life?  Something tells me that eventually I will lose motivation or grow tired of teaching.  Being so close in age to my students makes teaching both fun and relatively easy.  I can relate to and understand my students.  Also, I was in their position not too long ago.  I still remember what it was like to be a student and they know this.
     The more important reason, however, behind why I can't do this job forever may sound strange, but it's jealousy.  My students come and go over different lengths of time, but one constant factor always remains: every single one of them, at some point, will leave.  They either go back to their countries or to college here in the States.  Most go on to earn degrees using their English skills and find fantastic jobs after having a wonderful experience in America.  But, when they leave I feel left behind.  Of course I am incredibly proud of them and happy to see them do well, but I can't help but feel like this.  I feel like this can't be the end of the road.  I'd like to earn more money, I'd like to be an expert in something, I'd like to take the next step in my life path.  I just don't feel finished yet.  But what's next?  Am I too old to ask myself the question: "What do I want to be when I grow up?"
     I suppose I am not too old, but this question is a lot more terrifying now than when you're seven.  I always thought that being twenty-five meant that you were grown up already.  All I know is that I certainly don't feel like "an adult."  Being "grown-up" sounds, to me, like someone who is finished.  Kind of like a fancy meal that you put in the oven, set the timer and when that timer goes off it's completed, delicious, ready to serve, and exactly the way you had pictured it would be.  But I know I'm not the only person my age, or older, who feels like there's a few ingredients still missing and cooking to be done left in their life.  I just wish I had the recipe and could simply read the directions and know what the next step is.  But, nothing is that simple.  That's the beauty of it all, I suppose.
     But what other "ingredients" are missing?  Where's the husband, 2.5 kids, dog and white picket fence?  Is that even something I want?  I think young children in this country always just assume they'll grow up, get married, have kids and live a life similar to that of their parents.  My parents were twenty-one when they got married, so clearly I'm already over-do for that.  This did concern me for a while, particularly when, at twenty-three I went through a miserably painful breakup with a boy whom I thought I would marry some day.  That was nearly two years ago now.  Although I certainly realize that I'm probably the luckiest girl on the planet for having gained my freedom from this blood-sucking leech of a human being, I still can't help but be concerned about being alone for the rest of my life.
     The strange part is, however, that lately (at least over the past few weeks) I've realized that I'm actually happy to be single.  It's been almost two years since I had a boyfriend (despite having a couple of men in that period who I consider "almost boyfriends"), but for the first time in my life I actually feel independent and comfortable being single.  Sure, having someone to spend romantic evenings with would be nice, but I'd rather spend time with friends.  I think part of the reason behind this is that I've come to realize that wanting a boyfriend just for the sake of having a boyfriend is just silly and that when it comes down to it I have no idea what I want.  I've made mistakes in the past and usually make poor choices when it comes to men and I know that this makes me weary when introduced to someone new now.  I guess it all boils down to what I briefly mentioned in a previous blog: I just have a hard time connecting with people sometimes.
     That connected feeling is the only thing I know I want in a man.  I know I'm a complex person and have some unusual interests and tastes, but what I want is for somebody to at least try to understand me, or at least be interested in what I have to say.  I'd have to be an idiot to think that I'll ever find somebody with exactly the same interests as myself, but I can be hopeful that I'll find someone close enough.  Then again, if we had the exact same interests that would just be like dating myself and that's sort of strange.  Nonetheless, this is one similarity I crave.  But, the difficulty of this task is a bit daunting.  The more dates I go on, the more aware I become of what I don't want in a man.  Granted, finding what you do want via discovering the things that you don't want is one way of figuring it all out, but it feels like it's going to take forever.  But, oh well.  I'm really not in any rush.  If a tall, blue-eyed, nicely built, talented, wealthy, intelligent, funny, cultured man who likes traveling, reading, philosophy and Bjork falls out of the sky and into my lap one day, I'll take him, but I'm not going to sit at my window waiting desperately. After all, I've got myself to take care of, the world to see and a future to experience.
     I might not be able to make an exact list of the things I want in my life.  Like everyone else, my life did not come with a set of instructions, and I don't know what the next step is, but for the first time ever I'm not really scared about that.  As Scarlet O'Hara says in Gone with the Wind: "Tomorrow is another day!"