I remember calling my mom at some point and yelling "Mom, what did I like when I was little? What was my passion?" I was convinced that I had to figure out what my dreams used to be in order to find myself and finally understand what in the world I want to become when I grow up, even though I was already 30+. Hey, don't judge, we are all kids inside.
I also remember that feeling of emptiness when my last hope disappeared when she told me that I am her third child and it's really hard to remember details after you pass a certain number of children. Well, I didn't give up right away, though, because I also have an older sister, who was like my second mom, but she told me two things: