As children (and adults), we all have our dream jobs. I asked my kindergarten class a few weeks ago what they wanted to be as grown-ups, and the answers ranged from ballerina to nurse, and astronaut to fireman. Most kids want to be more than one thing, combining jobs to make themselves into legends like a fire-fighting President of the United States. (Hey, I’d vote for that person.)

Around the time I was eight or nine years old, I desperately wanted to become a storm chaser. Living on the very eastern edge of America’s Tornado Alley, I grew up with the sound of storm siren testings (first Wednesday of every month). I knew that when the humid summer air rapidly turned chilly, and when tree branches started lashing in sudden gusts of wind, it was time to head for the basement.

I felt a deep, sincere calling to be a storm chaser when I picked up a National Geographic magazine in my great-uncle’s chiropractic office. The magazine’s main feature was about storm chasers in far-away places like Oklahoma and Kansas whose bravery and fearlessness placed them in adventures every day.

Enraptured, I convinced my mom to buy my cousins and me some walkie-talkies, so we could start hunting storms immediately. Our regular tornado-chasing route went from our front yard to the neighborhood park about a block away. Thanks to our over-active imaginations, every shadowy cloud morphed into a funnel cloud, and each rain shower carried a threat of hail.

As with most childhood obsessions, the thrill of storm chasing eventually faded away in favor of some new dream. In my high school years, I rarely thought of storm chasing except to look back and laugh at how ridiculous my cousins and I must have looked with our rain ponchos flapping in the non-existent wind, waving our walkie-talkies above our heads.

(The only time I encountered a tornado was when I was driving, utterly lost, as a high school senior. More on that another time.)

I graduated college this May, and my mind has been awash with possibilities. (Unfortunately, storm chasing is not on the radar for a double major in English and Religion.) I’ve always loved reading and editing. What if I go into publishing? What about law? International relations? Is it smarter to go to graduate school now, or should I look into internships? Which fields am I actually qualified to go into?

Looking at graduate school applications or job opportunities, I often find myself on the verge of panic. My anxiety clashes with ambition, and I’m left asking myself, What if I’m not good enough?

I wish I could approach these questions with the certainty I had as a kid. Whether I wanted to chase tornadoes, solve criminal cases, or become an actress on Broadway, I had no doubt in my mind that I could do whatever I put my mind to.

If I believed I could chase F5s, then I can surely have a little faith in myself now. So, I’m challenging myself to take things step by step. First, turn in the application. Next, wait for the answer. Little by little, I’ll get there.

I’ve made up my mind to see the bigger picture in terms of where I’m at in the process. I believe that this mentality, combined with determination, hope, and a good dose of humility, will take me farther than I could ever have dreamed as a kid. I'm facing these storms head on.