What Do You Want When You Grow Up?

As kids, the question often came with infinite possibilities. Astronaut? Sure. Doctor? Why not. A mom or dad? Of course—wasn’t that the ultimate goal? For many, growing up meant embracing these roles effortlessly, like stepping into a costume waiting in your size.

But what happens when life hands you a different script?

When infertility entered my life, the question—What do you want when you grow up?—morphed into something loaded and bittersweet. It wasn’t just a question of what I wanted anymore, but of what I could have.

As I sat in waiting rooms and weathered countless tests, treatments, and heartbreaks, I started to feel like life had handed me an essay exam for a question I didn’t know how to answer anymore. Could I still want to grow into the role of motherhood when it seemed out of reach? Could I still envision joy and fulfillment without it?

Society doesn’t prepare us for this. It’s as though we were all handed a roadmap with motherhood circled in bright red as the final destination. When that map no longer works, you feel lost.

But here’s what no one tells you: when you’re forced to draw your own map, you get to discover roads no one else imagined.

Infertility made me dig deeper than I ever thought possible. It forced me to ask not just what I wanted, but why. Did I want motherhood to feel worthy? To have someone call me “Mom”? To create a legacy?

And when I peeled back the layers, I found something I hadn’t expected: my worth wasn’t tied to being a mother. My life didn’t lose its meaning because one chapter didn’t go as planned. What I truly wanted when I grew up was to feel whole, connected, and impactful—to love and to be loved in ways that transcended biology.

Infertility didn’t close the door on who I could become; it simply pointed me toward paths I hadn’t considered. I’ve grown in ways that a younger me could never have imagined—stronger, more empathetic, more resilient.

What do I want when I grow up? I want to thrive, even in a life that doesn’t look like the one I once dreamed of. I want to honor the grief but also embrace the beauty in what is.

To anyone who’s rewriting their map like I did, I’ll say this: Growing up isn’t about sticking to the plan. It’s about finding joy, purpose, and yourself—no matter what roads you take to get there.

What do you want when you grow up? I hope, more than anything, that it’s to become the fullest, most unapologetically real version of yourself.