What Was I Made For

Except I'm Not Barbie

I was inspired by my friend Marjorie Muller to create this list. She posted this TikTok sharing things she was meant to do.

It’s no secret I have been struggling mentally. Recently, I watched a movie that (at least temporarily) has snapped me out of it. I’m inspired to feel good about myself. For better or for worse, I’m endlessly inspired by other people, so I want to make my own list of what I was made to do.

I was made to pet cute animals. My lap was made so animals can curl up in them and hands to smooth their fur.

I was made to go on a drive with the windows down, feel a breeze on my face, and sing as loudly as I want. A song I’ve heard a million times feels brand new when it’s just me and my speakers and my steering wheel.

I was made to re-watch movies I love. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen Wall-E, Tangled, The Incredibles. I was made to bask in the familiarity, the comfort, of knowing how the story will end.

I was made to listen to audiobooks at a high speed. (I still feel like 2x speed isn’t that fast, but everyone who accidentally hears it says it sounds like gibberish.)

I was made to go to concerts. I was made to feel the spike of adrenaline when the performer we’re all waiting for comes out on stage, bouncing on my tippy toes to see over the crowd, dance even when I have no one to dance with.

I was made to dream. Literally, I dream so many dreams at night, it’s ridiculous. But some part of me still dreams even when I’m awake. I’ve been spinning stories, creating worlds, making happy ever afters. One day, maybe someone can read them.

I was made to run into the ocean, even if I don’t want to get my hair wet. I was made to listen to the waves lap at the shore, feel the sand beneath my feet, see the skyline change from blues to oranges and finally, black.

I was made to eat appetizers and talk shit with my friends in the same chain restaurants we’ve been going to since high school.

I haven’t made it yet, but a part feels like I was made to go to New York. Maybe it’s the media romanization, but I want to see it with my own eyes.

I was made by science. Literally, I recently found out I’m an IVF baby, which explains So Much.

I was made to wander stores, feel new textures with my hands, look at labels as if I’ve never seen a jar of pasta.

I was made to sit in the dark, to ruminate, but maybe one day I won’t anymore.

I was made to eat cheeses in various forms. I love it all. Grilled cheese. Mac and cheese. By the slice. By the block. Except blue cheese.

I was made to look at the moon.

I was made to say “cow” every time I pass a field.

I was made to change. I was made to grow. I was made to adapt.