Beyond Childhood Dreams: The Path of Purpose and Evolution

As children, we’re often asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s one of the most common questions we hear as we navigate our younger years, and we’re expected to answer with enthusiasm, certainty, and an unwavering belief in the endless possibilities of the future. For many of us, those answers were grand—president, astronaut, doctor, or some other larger-than-life dream that carried a sense of limitless potential.

Looking back, at seven years old, when I said my dream was to become president, it now seems a bit grandiose. I didn’t fully understand what it meant to wield power, but I imagined that being in charge and leading others would be as thrilling as the superheroes I admired in cartoons and movies. This dream likely stemmed from my time as class president in first grade in Korea, where I felt important and responsible—at least in the small world of my classroom. While I couldn’t fully express it back then, I remember the pride I felt when organizing events and making decisions. It ignited a desire for leadership and a drive to make a difference, even if it was on a much smaller scale at the time.

The Evolution of Dreams

As many children do, my dreams started to shift as I grew older. In middle school, I realized that politics wasn’t as glamorous as I had imagined. I came to understand that politicians faced not only economic instability but also the harsh realities of public scrutiny—and the payoff didn’t seem worth the headaches or risks. Around this time, I was introduced to To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, and the character of Atticus Finch—a lawyer who defended the powerless and fought for justice—captured my imagination. I admired the idea of being someone who could stand up for what’s right, someone who had the power to make a real difference in the world—and, perhaps, be compensated for it.

During this time, it wasn’t just by chance that money began to factor into my thought process. I started experiencing the realities of managing finances when I began receiving a weekly allowance from my parents. My mom always packed my lunch, so my $20 weekly allowance had to cover everything else I needed. A special treat was going to the local Chinese restaurant with my friends each week, where we’d order ginger beef and rice for about $10 each. That left me with just $10 to stretch for the rest of the week, often spent on small, frivolous things like snacks. It was a tight budget, and it gave me a real sense of the value of money.

Of course, I wasn’t worried about buying a house or paying bills at the time, but it was simply about wanting more and not having enough. Looking back now, I can see that this is where the shift began. It wasn’t just about doing something meaningful anymore—it was about finding a balance between passion and practicality. How could I make a living doing something that mattered to me? The reality of managing money subtly guided my evolving aspirations, pushing me to rethink how I could blend purpose with financial stability.

As I entered high school, my priorities began to shift. I realized I wanted to be present for my future family and be the kind of father my dad had been for me. This led me to question what kind of career would allow me to achieve that balance. At the time, two of my closest friends had fathers who were lawyers, and I saw how incredibly busy they were. Gradually, my interest in law faded, and I discovered a new passion: entrepreneurship. It offered the opportunity to build something meaningful on my own terms—one that would allow me to create, express myself, and carve my own path to success. Little did I know how time-consuming it would become. In hindsight, I might have been better off going into law, but I’ll save that story for another time.

Growing Dreams, Growing Up

As an educator, I’ve noticed something fascinating: children’s dreams tend to be grander and more ambitious than those of older students and adults. It’s almost as if, in the beginning, we are like feathers, weightless and drifting on the wings of boundless possibility. As children, we float effortlessly, carried by the winds of imagination, unburdened by limitations.

But once we begin the journey of life, reality starts to pull us downward. The more time goes by, the more we experience roadblocks—expectations, responsibilities, and setbacks. Slowly, we begin to descend, and eventually, we land. When we do, we often find ourselves nowhere near where we first started, nowhere near the dream that once carried us so high.

But here’s the thing: the key difference isn’t whether we’ve “grown up” or not. It’s how we’ve adjusted our dreams. As we grow, we encounter new realities—obligations, responsibilities, and societal changes—and our dreams evolve to account for those factors. Growing up, in many ways, isn’t about letting go of big dreams; it’s about adapting them to the life we’re living now, finding a balance between ambition and practicality.

Plus, in today’s world, traditional markers of “growing up”—getting a job, getting married, having kids—are shifting. People are marrying later, having fewer children, and redefining what it means to be an adult. Some are forging their own paths in their 30s, 40s, or even 60s, finding success and fulfillment in ways that weren’t possible a generation ago. With the internet offering unprecedented access to resources, mentors, and opportunities, the possibilities seem endless—but so does the uncertainty. We can now create, learn, and adapt in ways that were unimaginable before, which means that our “dreams” may still be evolving, just as we are.

The Dilemma of Dreams in Adulthood

So, we return to the question we all asked ourselves as children: What do I want to be when I grow up?  The answer is rarely as clear-cut as it was when we were younger—and maybe that’s okay. The process of “growing up” often feels like a series of adaptations, setbacks, and reimaginings of the life we once thought we wanted. We change, the world changes, and society evolves—and through it all, we adjust our dreams, sometimes scaling them back, other times evolving them into something entirely new.

But that doesn’t mean we’ve failed. In fact, the ability to adapt—to grow and evolve without losing sight of what we truly care about—is one of the most important skills we can develop as adults. Whether you’re still chasing the same dream you had when you were seven or if your aspirations have shifted dramatically, the essence of what you wanted to achieve can still be alive and well.

The Bottom Line: Growing Up or Evolving?

The journey from childhood dreams to adulthood is rarely a straight line. We change, our circumstances change, and the world around us changes. But at the core of it all, the essence of our dreams—the desire to lead, to create, to make a difference—often remains the same.

I think back to an interview with Apple CEO Tim Cook, where he was asked if he could have ever imagined being in his position today. He explained that when he graduated college, he had mapped out a 25-year plan for his life. Yet, only the first two years followed his vision—everything after was nowhere close. Looking back, the plan wasn’t even worth the paper it was written on. But despite that, he never lost sight of what truly mattered to him: doing something meaningful, something with purpose.

In many ways, that’s how dreams evolve. The specifics may change, but the ethos—the deeper reason behind them—stays with us. As a child, I wanted to be president, not because I understood politics, but because I wanted to lead and make an impact. Later, I saw that same purpose reflected in law, and eventually, in entrepreneurship. The dream wasn’t abandoned—it simply adapted to the realities of life while staying true to its core.

So maybe the real question isn’t about whether we’ve “grown up” or strayed from our original dreams. Maybe it’s about how we’ve allowed them to evolve while staying true to what has always driven us. After all, life rarely follows the plans we make, but as long as we’re pursuing something meaningful, we’re still on the right path.

Just some food for thought. Thanks for reading!