I’ve had a rough few days, emotionally and, well, emotionally if that makes sense.
Last week was the 20th anniversary of my high school graduation. I went home this past weekend and while I didn’t go to the little crap reunion that was put on (that’s a whole other story), I got to thinking about where I wanted to be at this point in my life.
So I looked at my senior memory book. My career? A record producer for Garth Brooks.
Obviously, that hasn’t come close to happening, even though I’ve gotten to meet my hero, but it got me to thinking.
I have always wanted to work in the music industry, whether it be as a record producer (which it was in high school), or as a music journalist or someone working behind the scenes with the artists. Since falling in love with writing and journalism, it’s been the previous two things. I’ve gotten to interview people like Luke Bryan and even good ol’ Howie Dorough. I’ve got to ask my idol Garth a question in an interview and I’m so lucky and privileged to be able to take part in the Backstreet Boys’ fan club and to keep fans up to date on things.
Honestly, the last thing, helping the Backstreet Boys, is the closest to my dream that I’m doing now. I no longer get to interview musicians and celebrities since starting my job three years ago. I no longer write for work, I simply design. Which, I’m a good designer. I just won a third place award in the state of Georgia over the week, but is it where my heart is? No, it’s not.
So at what age do you give up on your dream?
I turn 38 one month from today and I’m starting to think that time is coming soon and as I write this, I’m crying a little bit because I’m not where I want to be in my life. It’s like 20 years just snuck up on me and here I am, still pushing. I came so close at my old job, doing exactly what I wanted to do until everything fell out beneath me and I left that job for my sanity. I was paid to go cover concerts that I would otherwise pay to go see.
The time is coming soon. And I hate facing that realization.