In the midst of being haunted by my impending 18th birthday, I re-watched the movie “16 Wishes”. It stars actress Debby Ryan, who plays Abby Jensen on the day of her 16th birthday. 

In the movie, a magical entity gives Abby 16 enchanted candles that grant each of her birthday wishes, no matter how ridiculous they are. All her life Abby couldn’t wait to grow up and be treated like an adult. However, when her wishes come true and go awry, she learns to appreciate who she currently is and how to live in the moment.

I don’t relate to Abby’s aspirations to grow up so fast — entering my senior year of high school, all I want to do is slow down, to my dismay, I’m plagued by questions of what I’m going to do for the rest of my life, when really all I want to think about is the next movie I’m going to watch.

I can’t avoid planning for the future forever no matter how much I procrastinate, but as I sat in my bed watching Abby’s birthday dissolve into chaos, I was inspired by her ridiculous list of birthday wishes. Although often silly (like her wish to magically start liking sushi), her wishes brought her to a place where she could appreciate who she is rather than what she’ll achieve in the future.

I don’t know exactly who I’ll be in the future or, more urgently, where I’m going to college, but I do know what parts of myself I want to carry on with me as I grow up. So, I’m creating my own list of 18 wishes. This is the start of my series of columns called “18 Wishes” where I write about some of the wishes on my list.

My first being that when I’m 18 I’ll be a dreamer. Sometimes thinking about the future can become really discouraging. I get caught up in the endless to-do lists and all the upcoming changes. And in this stress I end up turning all my dreams into watered down, realistic goals. One major dream is my future career.

Ever since I was little, when the adults in my life asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer was always something creative, whether that meant wanting to be a writer, illustrator, or painter. But these careers are commonly looked down upon. Why spend all that time in college just to become a struggling artist?

This is yet another question that still plagues my mind. I spent so much time trying to drown all my artistic dreams under waves of other careers I have significantly less interest in because I was convinced that it’s trivial and that I’d be filled with regret.

I realize now that I’ll only be filled with regret if I choose to throw everything I’m passionate about in some dark corner to eternally collect dust, like my sketchbook (Don’t worry, it’s been recovered).

Even though I’m getting older, I’m not going to stop dreaming big. Especially since daydreaming is one of the things I appreciate about myself the most. Chasing things that aren’t conventional is scary, but not as scary as stopping myself from believing that my dreams can’t become a reality.

 I know that awkwardly blowing out star shaped candles like Abby won’t necessarily make anything come true, but that doesn’t mean my wishes are impossible to reach because, after all, these wishes are things that I know I want in my life, and I’m hoping that at least 18 of them will come true.