Fuck Waldo

As a little girl, the "Find Waldo" series was one of my favorites. The idea of a man that could be lost so many times - in so many places - and that he needed me to find him both fascinated and intrigued me. No visit to the doctor's office or the dentist's office was complete until I found him on every page of every book. I was just five or six years old; and I didn't exactly have a grasp on what the entire concept around the books were. Yet finding Waldo had become a bit of an obsession. And with that obsession came the promises to myself that I would never be lost. No one would ever have to come find me.

Oh... how much times have changed, huh?

The harsh reality of my naivité struck only a few short years later - Middle School. Such a hard time for every one. Teachers endlessly asking what I wanted to be when I grew up - or even worse - who I wanted to be when I grew up. Did I want to fight crime? Fight the bad guys? Did I want to be President? Maybe fly off into space and make great discoveries that would benefit the expansion of all humankind. Did I want to find the cure for cancer? An actress? A singer? So many choices! And they all seemed so great and wonderful.

Then, of course, there were the friends. Did I want to go to the movies with one group? Did I want to go to the dance with another group? Was I willing to stop being friends with one girl because no one else liked her? Why don't I lie to my mother about spending the night at one girl's house so I can sneak to a party at another girl's house? Did I even want to go to college?

High School wasn't much easier. My mother assured me that I would find myself there; that I would finally make friends who actually shared the same interests as I did. That I would no longer feel the need to change my own interests to suit theirs. I left High School more confused about myself than ever.

And that's when it hit me. The reason I could always find Waldo is because I knew who he was. How could I find myself if I didn't know who I was yet? And more importantly, how would I go about finding out who I was?

At the time, college was not the answer. How could I justify paying thousands of dollars to learn how to be something when I didn't know if that's what I wanted to be? No... working was definitely the more practical way to go. Meeting different people; finding out who they were, how they found themselves...

As you can imagine, that didn't really work out either. Most every one I met in the business world had no idea who they were. Seven years in radio taught me how to speak publicly; how to speak to people, promotions, marketing - even some sales. It taught me the power of influence - of how to guide people to accepting my own ideas as their own without emotional appeals or manipulation. But it didn't teach me a thing about myself.

Restaurant management taught me employee relations, the importance of resources and planning. Still - I was no closer to finding out who I was.

I finally returned to college - and I graduated this Holiday Season. Yet now I'm still confused as to who I am. Should I use this degree to go into Social Work? Human Services? I could further it to gain a Master's in either education or human services... but do I want to do that?

I married four years ago to someone I thought was a wonderful man - and this past summer we started proceedings for a divorce. No clues in either event that I have truly found myself.

So... not long ago I was talking to my mother - reminiscing over all the stories of my past, all the choices I had made (both the good and the bad). Suddenly she says to me "I knew it might take a while, but it looks like you've finally found who you are - and it's a woman you should be proud to know."

This has started a spiral of new thoughts, worries, and self-doubts. How could she be so sure that I have finally found myself when I still didn't feel like I knew who I was? Will that search never end?

Perhaps we'll never know who we are. Would my life be different if I had lied to my mother that night to sneak out to a party? If I'd stayed friends with that girl and told the group to buzz off - where would I be? Our lives are always filled with reasons to doubt the choices we've made in our lives. But it now seems to me that the search to find yourself shouldn't be one with a conclusion.

In fact, perhaps it's the time we stop looking for ourselves that we actually lose ourselves...