Bimbo by Choice

You're awoken by your phone blowing up in activity. Groaning, you pick it up and see what's going on. The group chat of your old friends from high school has gone crazy, everyone showing off and commenting on pictures of their first full day of 'spring break'. Annoying both that this woke you up, but more so in that none of these people actually go to college, and meanwhile you do, but you're still here on campus. Resigned to your fate, you slowly sit up in bed and look through the chats and the pictures. They certainly look to be having more fun than you have in a long time. Bright sun, some exotic beach. Parties in revealing swimsuits that you guarantee are going to lead to some hookups.

While you're happy for your friends, you begin to wonder why you can't have at least a taste of that life. You get up out of bed, and look over your solitary room. There's nothing really of "you" in it. Fuck, you don't even know what "you" is at this point. Everything, from this college, to your clothes, to your books, phone, have all been the smart and prudent decision someone else has made. Unfortunately, this applies to you as well, looking in the full body mirror. Whoever convinced you that your hourglass figure was best hidden in conservative wear, and only show it off to your future husband, decades from now when nobody wants to see you naked anymore, needs to get a medal for salesmanship.

"Fuck!" You groan to yourself, coarsing your hands through your long hair. "Why is my life so bland?" You ask rhetorically, because you know the answer. A higher calling, at least thats what you were told. Damned near valedictorian of your school, you could do anything you put your mind to, and change the world.

"But who asked me if I even wanted to?" You ask again. Nobody, you went with the advice of the people who supposedly knew best, your parents. The most stolid, boring people you've ever met. Somewhere in the past you thought when you got out on your own you could be free of their chains, but after so many years, you forgot they were even there in the first place.

Finding a new commitment to charge headlong into a new world, or at least a whole new you, you grab a pen and paper and begin writing things out you want to do to change yourself. You stop yourself after the second line and laugh as tou crumble the paper up. This is the first step; no more lists, fewer immaculate plans. Find the first idea in your head and go with that. Instead, you think on what you want to do most, and how you might go about doing it.