When I Was Five, What Did I Wanted to Be?
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At five, some kids wanted to be astronauts.
Some wanted to be doctors.
Some were already bossing around imaginary employees like mini-CEOs.
And me?
I was just… sucking my thumb and ghosting the oral exams.
Ambition? Sorry, she was absent that day.
📒 Let Me Check My Diary… Oh Wait, I Couldn’t Write.
Or maybe my canvas?
Nope. That had more doodles than direction.
I’ve searched everywhere—memory files, brain archives, inner-child Google.
Even typed:
“What did I want to be at age 5?”
Result?
“An AI Overview is not available for this search.”
So yeah, not very helpful, even with fiber-optic WiFi and ChatGPT in 2025.
😶 I Didn’t Talk. Literally.
No, really.
I failed my kindergarten orals because I never spoke.
Silence: Activated.
- KG? Mute mode.
- Primary school? Maybe two words per term.
- Oral exams? 404 Voice Not Found.
While others sang nursery rhymes with dramatic hand movements, I was in the back… quietly calculating how to avoid eye contact with Miss Lily Ma’am.
🤷♂️ So, What Did I Want to Be?
I honestly don’t remember.
Because I don’t think I wanted to “be” anything.
I just wanted:
- My eraser back
- My mom to stop forcing me to wear that sweater
- And maybe to get through school without having to “speak loudly and clearly” into a mic taller than me
Dreams? Ambitions? Career plans?
At five, I just wanted to survive the Monday assembly.
🧠 Cut to Present Day:
I still don’t know what I want to be.
The thumb-sucking is gone (thankfully).
But the soul-searching?
Still happening.
Career tabs = open
Confidence = buffering
Google = confused
Maybe I don’t need to become something.
Maybe I’m already becoming.
🎭 “Poem About Ambition”
Wanted to be or not wanted to be,
That was the question haunting mini-me.
While others dreamt big at the age of three,
I was still deciding which crayon to eat with glee.Wanted to be a pilot, flying skies so wide,
Until I saw the seatbelt and cried.
Wanted to be a doctor, saving lives on call,
Then saw a syringe and nearly hit the wall.Wanted to be a singer, stage lights in my eye,
But froze like Windows 98, mic in hand—oh my!
Wanted to be a cricketer, smashing sixes like Dhoni,
But the ball hit my thumb, and I switched to pony. 😅Wanted to be anything, but never truly sure,
Tried on dreams like clothes from a fancy store.
Wanted to be a chef, till I burned Maggi thrice,
Wanted to be a poet, but rhymed “school” with “rice.”Years flew by like Tom chasing Jerry’s tail,
Each “wanted to be” was another epic fail.
I googled myself—still no result to see,
Just a bold font answer: “Still figuring out who to be.”So here I am, still sipping chai,
Still dreaming, still wondering why—
Everyone seemed to know what they wanted to be…
While I just wanted to be… me.
🌀 Final Thought: Some Kids Knew. Some Kids Planned.
Me?
I just… showed up. Quietly.
And now?
Still showing up. Louder. Braver. Sometimes still confused.
But hey—figuring it out is also a career path. Right?
🐭 Yours in nostalgia, missed orals, and lifelong buffering,
🚀 Lucifer Morningstar
💬 “What did YOU want to be when you were five? And what are you actually doing now? Let’s compare reality vs childhood fiction in the comments!”
Watch out for more posts on The Jugnu Express
Thank you for reading, if you liked this then check our earlier post on Modern Relationship Series – Ghosting
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