Even though I try my best to deny it, I am more than well-suited to the astrological sign of my birth, the cantankerous and often over-sentimental, Cancer. Even though I have traveled over a good part of the world, I still can’t sleep without my favorite pyjamas because they remind me of home and even though I try to stifle myself, I can’t help but wear my heart on my sleeve. Even though I don’t hold that much stock in the signs of the zodiac, I fit every description I’ve ever read of Cancer perfectly.

As a child, I wanted to be either a veterinarian or a writer in New York City or some sort of crusader working to make the lives of others easier in the rainforest or desert by the time I hit thirty. Instead, I am 140 miles from where I grew up, making art (or is it craft?), writing and still trying to figure out the most accurate definition of the words ‘adult’ and ‘grown-up.’

And sometimes I wonder that if at thirty, I am still supposed to be worried if I laughed too loud when a child told me I had a “giant mouth” or stumbled too much over my words when nervously meeting someone new or said too much about nothing or thought for too long about when to use “effect” or “affect.”

Tonight I was ‘held captive’ by a rambunctious 5 year-old (the genesis of the “giant mouth” comment) who asked me to read her That Darn Yarn! I read the story three times. Twice because I was foiled by the dual-story structure, and one time further because in my own confusion, I had also thoroughly confused the child. And her questions and comments had me laughing at their innocence and raw curiosity that I began to simultaneously wonder why, as adults, we focus so very much on the things we can’t control instead of the things we can.

While I was reading, she put her little hand around my neck and paid rapt attention, asking me what this word was or what that picture meant. And it no longer worried me that I am not warding off hunger in the Sahara or spaying stray dogs (although those definitely are beneficial), and instead was taking a quiet moment with a small child, laughing and giggling down to the core. Because at day’s end, it’s not about whether or not I held true to my dreams of 1983, but whether or not I held true to my heart and convictions.

I’m not sure whether or not I can attribute that to my zodiac sign or pure stubbornness, but I don’t think I’d have it any other way.