'You will never be happy sitting in an office all day. You're like me.' He was right.
The words my father told me when I was merely a teenager came to haunt me today as I thought about my life and how wrong a turn I took with my career. He was a creative type like me. I recall watching him unfold his rolls of architectural designs in his study in the house he built for us in Oregon. In the study where one Wednesday we dragged my twin mattress so that I could have a place of my own where I could sleep.
In second grade I drew up the architectural plans for a mouse house. I then crafted the house out of construction paper. It was a two-story design which won me the coveted position in the school library for display.
Then in seventh grade I designed detailed plans for my future house along with a thick notebook full of tile, carpet, and wallpaper samples for the design of the interior. This also got me high grades.
In high school, the answer to the question 'Where do you see yourself in 5 years' was 'an interior designer'. So, how did I come I about to where I am now? Looking for an office job where I know I will never be happy? I let others dictate my future. I listened to the wrong people. My father was right. I should have pursued my dreams. I should have followed my creative path.