“It’s Not That Serious”
Growing up, adults love asking: “What do you want to become in the future?”
And that question usually means one thing: a profession — doctor, lawyer, engineer, astronaut.
What they rarely ask is: What kind of person do you want to become?
Then one day you grow up, and the question suddenly disappears — almost like time is up. Like you’ve already chosen your path, and now you must stay on it forever.
But let me tell you a little secret:
It’s not that serious. Really.
You’re allowed to change your dreams. Your opinion. Your direction.
Because life is more about exploring than following a plan…
Or maybe I’m saying this because I didn’t become what I once answered to that question.
And, oh well, I’m very happy anyway.
When I was a kid, I wanted to become everything: an artist, a famous painter like Picasso or Van Gogh, a writer, a scientist… or better yet, an actress, a singer too. No, no, wait. I couldn’t sing.
I spent afternoons drawing, painting, crafting things out of cardboard, and it felt like escaping real life. Even back then, I already knew (and was told) that being a painter wasn’t enough in life… And still, funny enough, today my mom proudly hangs my paintings (not my engineering degree) on the walls and asks when I’ll paint again.
…but I’m a PhD candidate now. I must research.
As I grew up, I started falling in love with learning. With maths, physics, chemistry, biology, literature, history. Everything intrigued me (except sports…). I also started repairing appliances at home with my father: looking inside washing machine motors and hair dryer circuits like they were holding some kind of magic inside.
But without even noticing, being “good at school” started writing my future for me.
I was going to become a doctor.
I know, you thought “engineer”… but apparently we needed a doctor in the family!
Oh well. Yes, I’m on my way of becoming a doctor now.
Not the kind that wears a white coat… but still: a doctor.
Now my days are spent working in electromagnetic compatibility, researching about reverberation chambers, studying how electronic devices communicate, interfere, and somehow manage (without magic) to coexist without disturbing each other too much. Most days I write papers instead of stories and spend time at conferences instead of art galleries, but in a strange way it’s still about observing, experimenting, and trying to think outside of the box. Maybe it’s not that far from those childhood afternoons after all …
And here is the funny part:
You don’t stop being creative because you enter academia or science, or because you switch careers. You aren’t killing your dreams. You aren’t failing.
Growing up is not about chasing careers that look successful on paper.
It’s about exploring what is unique inside you. About discovering yourself, developing your skills, and using them to contribute to things that have an impact.
And if you ask me now what I would like to become in the future, I’ll probably say:
Curious. Curious to explore. Curious to change direction. Curious to fail.
Curious to live in the present, not constantly preparing a life that might never arrive.
And remember:
- You are never too late, or too early.
- You don’t need to be great at something to start.
- Life is not a competition.
- Failure grows you more than any win ever could.
- Unlearn who they told you to be.
We all started from the beginning over and over again, we all started with a small room and a suitcase. And we’re all chasing dreams, even if they’re not the childhood ones.
So if you’re wondering why you’re reading this on a research project webpage, here is my answer:
Sometimes, to become a scientist, a researcher, or to become anything at all, you first have to give yourself permission to try. To change. To restart.
Without regret.
Because again:
it’s not that serious.
