I'd love to recite the endearing, childhood story of a young girl realizing her purpose at a young age. I'd love to pretend that I found my purpose early in life, an incomprehensible craving to be something, anything. The world was just too large, too many possibilities and uncertainties. I found myself, 20 years old, bouncing from one major to another, just praying that I could set my mind toward a career and be confident that I could prosper happily. I had just finished up my Associates in Art when I realized I was going to be a mother. Shocked, terrified, and admittedly, slightly depressed, I began preparing for the moment my life would change forever. My son saved me in so many ways. He gave me purpose and understanding and the truest and most indescribable love. Looking at him I knew I would do anything to make him proud, I would sacrifice anything to give him everything. I took a year off school watching him grow and discover the world around him. I become fascinated and enchanted watching him learn. Somewhere in between diapers and sleepless nights I had the epiphany that teaching was my purpose. So now at 23, I'm pursuing a degree in Secondary English Education. I'm happily engaged to a handsome and hard working man. My beautiful son is two and terrific. And I have many purposes, many passions, many things to aspire to.