I want to be a dancer. At age five I knew what I wanted to be. Having started dance lessons just a week before, I thought I wanted to have a career wearing tutus, leaping across the stage, gracefully twirling and bounding in rhythm. But I decided after a month of dance class, it was harder than it looked, and also I hated tutus. 

I want to be a doctor. At age twelve I knew what I wanted to be. After sneakily watching a few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, I decided I wanted to be just like Meredith Grey—helping people day in and day out. I would get to perform surgery, diagnose people with crazy new diseases no one has heard of, and also date a handsome neurosurgeon named McDreamy. But I realized I didn’t really like the thought of working 48 hours straight, and also McDreamy is wayyy older than me. 

I want to be a neonatal nurse. At age of fifteen I knew what I wanted to be. I wanted to help moms and their newborn babies. I loved babies and thought this career would be a perfect fit for me. I would get to hold them all the time and help moms with their health after giving birth. It seemed a lot more my speed than becoming the next Meredith Grey—not to mention a lot less schooling than trying to become a surgeon. But, evidently, the job of a neonatal nurse is much more than getting to play with babies all day.

I don’t know what I want to be. At age of seventeen, prime time for the question from distant relatives during family gatherings, 

“So, Eva, what’s your plan? What do you want to be?” I don’t know what I want to be! I’m only seventeen!! How do you people expect me to know that? 

I started avoiding specific relatives at our family gatherings, just so I didn’t have to lie and tell them I have it all figured out. I mean seriously, how am I supposed to have the rest of my life figured out already? I’m not all that great with art, I refuse to think of math outside of the class, and science is too confusing for me. Wait, I’ve got it! 

I have an idea of what I want to be. At the age of seventeen and a half, I discovered my passion for psychology. Walking into Mrs. Brown’s AP Psychology class on the first day of school, I never would have guessed it would have the impact on me that it did. Sure, it was a lot of work to learn and memorize the different parts and functions of the brain, why people behave the way they do, how people’s environment impacts them, versus how their genetics do. It's a lot to remember, but I loved it. Every day I would count down the minutes until I could learn more about the world of psych. I was fascinated, I was engaged, and I loved it. 

I don’t know exactly what I want to be, but I do know I want to study psychology and make a career out of it. This is now my answer for the once daunting question from those curious relatives. Now, at the age of eighteen, I finally know where I want my life to take me. Although I don’t have a clear career choice in mind as of now, I am confident in the career field I want to study, and I have never been more sure. Five year old me would be proud.