As early as I could read, I was mesmerized by World Book Encyclopedias. The idea that everything I ever wanted to know was available to me was exhilarating with a serotonin boost unlike any other. I would tell others I hated reading but, in reality, I hated reading what was expected of me. I wanted to read the “Human Body” book in the encyclopedia every day when I was 8 or 9 years old. I decided at that point in my life I wanted to be a pediatrician. The body made sense to me – the layers seemed endless, and the way they worked together was mind-boggling. The stars and traveling were two other areas in the World Book series that always piqued my interest, and at one point in my childhood, I decided maybe I wanted to be an astronomer. Gymnastics appeased my physical needs, though, so maybe I wanted to train to be an Olympic gymnast. I spent my days in a whirlwind of mentally creating stories (sometimes writing them on paper), practicing gymnastics, reading encyclopedias, and always including music. Music never even seemed like a hobby to me – it was more of an involuntary response. Music WAS me, while the rest just entertained me. I enjoyed time alone because my mind was never in solitude.
By age 11, a music box at my grandma’s house had caught my attention. As it played an unfamiliar tune, I caught myself writing lyrics in my mind. Something clicked that day, and I realized that I could write my own songs and then place them with the melodies I had written. At about that same time, my dad brought home the internet for the first time. A world opened to me that was the most exciting thing I’d ever seen. I remember typing in the word “dog” and hundreds of articles appeared before my eyes. Right then, I knew a brand-new world was dawning. From that moment on, I had two main loves… music and the digital world. I remember spending hours diving into every “help” button on every page I could find. I wanted to know how it worked inside and out. I checked out chat rooms and websites and eventually wandered into the backside of things like web design and programming. I attribute the web world back then to what Siri or Alexa might represent to young people today. I had all the answers right there for me – I just had to ask. By the time I was 16, I had built a recording studio on my computer, figured out how to install components, started my own business in crafting original songs for people, and was dabbling in web design as well. It was 1996, and the internet was my key to success. I pictured a world where I could work directly from my computer and never be tied to a 9 to 5 job in an office. I imagined myself in hotel rooms, on the beach, poolside… anywhere but an office… and I knew this lifestyle was made for me. It was that year, that my brain was envisioning working remotely, and I (almost) never looked back. It just made sense to me.
The internet opened worlds for me, but at the same time, it was shutting down my mind. I wouldn’t realize for decades that my brain works so incredibly fast that my emotions fall far behind. I began to stress about inadequate time in a day. There was so much I wanted to do in life and so little time. How could everyone else waste so much time every day with worthless things that resulted in nothing? I wanted to be a cheerleader, a gymnast, a singer, a songwriter, a pianist, a saxophone player, a guru in all types of music, a pediatrician, a jeweler, an entrepreneur, an attorney, a web designer, a graphic designer, a computer technician, a personal trainer, a Broadway singer, a touring musician, an actor… and I dove into every single one of these areas so hard I could have done any of them professionally. However, as I jumped off the bridge of every idea I had, I felt myself falling into waters I couldn’t escape. I enjoyed the process and the challenge and became insanely bored with the tedious tasks once the intricate parts were in place. I started business after business online only to shut them down within a year. I had incredible ideas – many of which I would later see constructed and fulfilled by larger businesses that had much success with them. I studied copious amounts of hours on every subject that interested me. I knew so much about so many things that people began to believe I was the stereotypical “jack of all trades, master of none” The problem was, I didn’t mind the title. I perceived it more enjoyable and practical to know many trades than to simply master one. Then “imposter syndrome” hit – though I didn’t know at the time there was such a thing. It began to hit me that everyone else in the world had one career path. They did the same job every day with the same expected income daily. I found it so mind-numbing that I began to have anxiety about this being the meaning of life. Everything in my mind was so exciting, and the real world seemed mundane and underwhelming. The energy in my brain raced daily, and I grew mentally exhausted every day in my own being. Some days I sat locked in my own dreams for hours after school prompting my parents to think I was depressed. I was just about as opposite of depressed as a person could be. My passions were on fire, my mind was blazing, and I was creating a future path for myself that I knew no one would understand. I began to wonder what was wrong with me, that I could get so excited about so many subjects while everyone else was happy with one. I began to contemplate why others didn’t experience life with such enthusiasm and wonder. I talked myself into thinking I was either a crazy new-age thinker, or I was simply indecisive and making myself believe I knew things that I really didn’t. I began to shy away from speaking out in situations as I doubted my own knowledge. I kept quiet at school and let everyone assume I was the model student when all I wanted to do was escape. I despised projects where working together was a requirement because I just couldn’t find other brains that worked like mine. I also found it ridiculously hard to focus on anything that didn’t stimulate my creativity or curiosity. The hours were so unbearably long at school that I still have dreams about it 25 years later – dreams where I’m back in school and the feelings of dread and apprehension engulf me all over again like a tsunami that you know is going to hit you every day without fail.
My friends joked about me being the “ADD Queen” (there was no “H” in it back then) and we laughed about it together – never realizing that I was the poster child for the entire syndrome. All I knew was I expected to blend into society and that everything in my foreseeable future was in exact contrast to what I could see everyone around me doing. I had a full ride to college, a GPA above a four-point, and I had no desire to study anything they offered. I could learn something on my own in 15 minutes and never could listen to someone speaking to me for more than a couple of minutes. The thought of a professor speaking to me for 45 minutes on a subject that was still the same as it had been for a hundred years was appalling and useless to me. I wanted to learn to run a business. I wanted to build computers. I wanted to work the network system and figure out what I knew was coming for the future. The closest thing I could do at the time to quench my hunger for knowledge was to build complex Microsoft Excel sheets and come up with formulas that solved everyday issues. I didn’t want to learn how to add up interest on a loan – I wanted to create a program that did it for me.
I gave up on college doing anything at all for me and I set out to pursue my dreams in both music and marketing. I learned the craft of songwriting, and I learned that at 18 I was too young to get into the places I needed to be to make my dreams happen. After a couple of failed relationships and feeling like I was too young to accomplish my dreams, I decided to try out the real world like everyone else. I got an office job, I bought a house, I tried marriage, I had a baby, and I was absolutely the most miserable I’d ever been. Having my daughter was the greatest highlight of my life – everything else was everything I never wanted to be. I confirmed then that I didn’t fit the role of a typical civilian, and it was time to try out life like I wanted to live it. I began to rip the chains off of my body like a madman working his way out of a straitjacket. I left the office job, I got a divorce, I stepped back, looked at my mess, and freaked out at everything I had done wrong in life. That night at 23 years old, I sat in my bed with my 2-year-old daughter playing next to me and I felt an overwhelming sadness and a rush of excitement at the same time. It was now not only my job to create a world for myself. I was the keeper of the most precious treasure in the world, and I had the power to influence her world as well. It was sink or swim time… and I’ve always loved the water. Sinking never even entered my mind. Still fighting with imposter syndrome, I felt like there was no way I could be an adult, plan any life I wanted, and raise another human. The challenge felt exhilarating, though, and I claimed it as the greatest adventure I’d ever create. I felt like I was playing the part, but I was the only one who knew it was just a movie. Even now, I still feel like my movie is playing, and I have no idea where the plot is going. I believe that’s what keeps me going. Life is exciting to me. Every day, I wake up knowing that anything could happen. I can’t explain it, but the thought that each day has an endless array of possibilities and opportunities is like waking up with a slot machine in front of me and a handful of “all you can play” coins. I could spin it all day and have a good time, or today could be the day I hit the jackpot.