Why do we give up on our dreams when we become adults?


I watched Spice World the other day.

Before you judge me for my terrible taste in films, hear me out.

I just wanted to know if it was as good as I remember it. Like when you think “surely, going on the slip-n-slide is just as awesome now as when I was a kid”, and then you do it, and you almost break your ass-bone and realise that nothing is as good as it appears in the glow of reminiscence.

Except, Spice World is every bit as good as I remembered.

The Spice Girls sure knew a thing or two about chunky shoes in the 90's.

Here’s why, though.


It’s not because it’s actually a good film. Victoria Beckham may be a very talented fashion designer, but she is the Official Worst Actor On The Planet (it’s an award I’ve just made up and given to her).

The storyline is both predictable and confusing. The movie is full of lame jokes and plot holes (what the HELL is that scene with the aliens?).

But it just looks like so much fun to be a Spice Girl.

And watching the film has made me realise; I’ve yet to accept that it is possible, quite possible, I will NOT be a Spice Girl when I grow up.

In fact, there’s a whole wealth of things I was dying to be when I was little, which I devastatingly have NOT become.

Despite the fact that I’m 28 and pretty comfortable with my choice of career (UNICORN. No, wait. Actor.) I still dream about being a dolphin trainer at Sea World.

Everybody wanted to be that at some stage, surely. Very few people actually went through with it. I remember when I was in grade four, we found out that to be best friends with dolphins every day at a marine park, you had to do all kinds of study and training and blah blah blah way to take the fun out of it blahhhh. Pfft. No thanks.

But maybe one day…

Relive your childhood and watch the trailer for Spice World below. Post continues after video. 

Or a vet. Every kid who likes their pet considers becoming a veterinarian one day.

Until their parent tells them that vets have to do a loooot of study, and also work with the ugly animals like lizards and sick birds, and being a vet doesn’t mean just playing with puppies all day, every day.

Still… I might be one. I really might. Eventually.

A ballerina? I did ballet for years. I’m still waiting for the day that somebody in the big ballet show falls ill, and they suddenly need a girl who has been practising and practising her pirouettes to fill in for the main dance solo in front of the Queen.

Usually it only happens to Angelina Ballerina, but it might happen to me soon. Sooooooon.

What about a mermaid? Surely that hasn’t been ruled out of my future yet? I wanted the opposite of Ariel, I wanted King Triton to turn my legs into a fish tail so that I could live under the sea and have floaty mermaid hair. I’ve been hanging around the ocean, wearing a shell-shaped bra, brushing my hair with a fork.

Why haven’t they done it yet? What’s that about, Triton?

And when is it my turn to become a damn princess? Mary did it. Kate did it. I’ve been practising my royal-bloody-wave for two decades, kissing stranger’s babies and speaking with a posh voice. What’s your problem, Prince Harry? Where the hell are you? Don’t worry about my boyfriend, he won’t mind. I’m sure he’d appreciate the bump in our income.

Watch this clip from Reality Bites below. Post continues after video.

An ice-skater. An astronaut. A doctor. A fireman (firewoman?). A chef.


Reality is hard to accept, no matter how good you’ve got it. I’ve got it pretty good, I’m happy with my life choices.

I even feel like I’m a grown-up most of the time, going to the supermarket and paying electricity bills and all that stuff.

But there will always be a little, tiny part of me, just waiting and waiting and waiting, to put on those platform shoes and glittery dress and sing “Wannabe” with my Girls to an arena of screaming fans, before hopping on our double-decker bus full of beanbags.

That’s me. Slightly Sad Spice.


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