As I sit in bed reflecting on another year that's passed and conversations I've had in the last few days, I can't help but comment on the notion of growth; the fantasy of love; and the importance of family. We all define ourselves by something other than ourselves. Whether that be a profession, looks, stories of fairytales we create in our minds in order to escape reality, family, friends, the place we live, lovers, significant others, etc. We all work so hard to figure out who we are, that I've come to think we do the exact opposite - we lose ourselves.

I've spent the greater part of my life trying to fix myself; fix what's in it and come to a conclusion on who I am or where I'm going. This year was no different. Somewhere amidst the whirlwind of emotions regarding living a life where my education has failed me and job searches produced nothing but an angry stamp on my forehead, I found myself applying and taking tests for a teachers' certification program. It was a decision, I had convinced myself, that would fill the void in my nonprofessional life and something I knew I would love.

False.

It was a tactic I like to call running. A tactic that I've become so good at I often don't realize when I'm doing it. I am becoming a teacher because it was the only road I saw back in March of 2009. It was a way to shut my father up about Law School all while proving a point that I was starting a journey that would not only satisfy me, but would be benefit the young minds of America. I wonder, however, if that's how it's supposed to be. Forced. Forced to make a choice, rather than fall into it. I like to call my students the "Yes Generation." They never hear the answer no. Not from their parents, not from their teachers, not from anybody. I was raised on the brink of that generation and to a father that so lovingly preached I could do anything I wanted. Be anything I wanted. And it's not that I don't thank him everyday for that, because some are not so lucky. But contrary to that, what happens when you don't know what you love? When the line you're walking isn't pointing anywhere clear?

I'm confident that I will mold the coming generations of young adolescents just fine. I will be able to open up worlds to kids that they've never seen; never dreamed. I will be a phenomenal resource for some, while not for others. I will be a good teacher.

But is that where I'm supposed to be?

I spent all of college telling myself that to be swept off your feet, as your heart races from the anticipation of being with someone, was the only way to have it. Nonetheless, as I graduated that ideal faded. Somewhere I got the notion that in truth it’s about work, about molding with someone; not finding perfection right away. Yet once again, over the last couple months, my two beliefs have melded into one. There’s no reason one shouldn’t be swept away by the charming nature of a lover everyday, not just once in a blue moon. What’s more, amongst the moments of lust, anger, and love, you will grow together. Not because you're two halves of the perfect whole; but because you're two wholes that make each other better. Eventually you blend the parts of your life, to a point where you don’t have to ask them if they want ice cream, you will just know. You won't have to tell them you need silence, they'll just hear you. Maybe you’ll say though that my fabricated image, this story from when I was just a little girl, is so deeply ingrained I can’t seem to shake it. That it’s ridiculous to become high from love; or not even that deep, from just being with someone. I don’t believe it's impractical though. I believe it’s the truth.