I went to see Fiddler on the Roof Friday night. First of all, despite Harvey Fierstein's occasional lapses into campy Edna Turnblad, I was enthralled with every aspect of the show, especially its incredible lasting power.

When I was ten, my grandparents took me to a small dinner theater in Los Angeles to see Fiddler. I was in love. I had seen theater before, many times, and I always thought I'd like to do that, but when I saw Fiddler that time, I knew that I would do what those people were doing one day. Little did I know it would be less than six years later.

Long story short, I was thinking a lot about ten year old me while I watched the show on Friday night. Ten year old me was more moody (I know, can you even imagine?), bookish, and shy than I am now. Ten year old me didn't have the courage to meet new people or put in a name at a restaurant maître d'. But she was thoughtful and kind, and had endearing quirks.

For instance, she used to think long and hard about what she would be like when she "grew up". Sometimes, she wondered what being a teenager would feel like and sometimes, she imagined herself so old as to be in college. She wondered if she'd be pretty, have friends, be smart... Would she have a boyfriend (Eh...)? Would she still like horses (No...)? Would she be a good person (Let's hope so...)? There were so many things that 10 year old me was hoping for in.... me.

And as I stood outside the Paramount Theater, I wondered if 10 year old me, who saw this very show nearly 11 years ago, would approve of who I've become. I imagined a scenario where we would meet, and she would walk around me, sizing me up. And even in this silly, impossible imaginary situation, I was nervous about whether she'd like me.

I want to be the person that I imagined/hoped/dreamed I would be when I was ten.