What I Choose To Become

Ten years ago, my boyfriend was called a failure; half his brain had taken on the consistency of peanut butter and was surgically removed. Five years ago, my boyfriend was called a dreamer; he wanted to pursue medical school rather than a minimum wage service job.

He will be starting medical school in the fall. When he graduates, he plans to send a letter to the neuropsychologist who called him delusional to thank him. His determination to succeed has largely be a big “f*** you” to the countless people who told him would never make anything of himself.

That letter stating he was a “dreamer” for wanting to pursue medical school? That will be blown up and posted on the wall of his practice. A reminder to himself and to his patients that no one else can tell us what we are or are not capable of.

“I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become.”

Carl Jung

After ten years with my partner and being slapped around by life myself, I’ve adopted a similar level of determination. I refuse to be chronically ill. I refuse to give up my career unwillingly. I refuse to be too tired to babysit my niece and her soon-to-be sibling. I refuse to give up without a fight.

A brilliant professor in college introduced my to Carl Jung–as well as Joseph Campbell, Plato, and more–and I have always admired Jung’s takes. If he were alive today, I think we would be the best of friends and have some great discussions.

Today, I’m in a strange limbo. I know why I was sick, I am mostly recovered, I’ve released my old stress triggers, and I am faced with a blank slate. A few years ago, some may have called me a failure as my health and career regressed. A few years ago, some may have called me a dreamer when I insisted I would restore my health after doctors told me it was impossible.

It doesn’t matter what has happened to me. What matters is, what am I going to do about it? What am I going to do now? What’s my next oversized, unrealistic, “you’re crazy!” dream going to be?

I suppose the dream itself doesn’t matter. What matters is that I get to choose. Career advancement? Motherhood? Or, perhaps, taking up a new hobby? Anything.

I am not a victim of my experiences. I get to choose my path forward. How empowering it is to realize that not only have I had that choice at every stage of my journey, but I have taken full advantage, even when I didn’t quite realize it. Everyday, I am laying down the stepping stone toward the life of my dreams.