Finding your “aha!” moments and listening to the right ones

And how to rethink the tale old question, “What do you want to be?”

Dominique Dajer
5 min readSep 21, 2022
The author kneeling in a meadow with her film camera in Yellowstone National Park
Self; Yellowstone National Park Fall ‘21

As a kid, my mother suggested I become a news reporter when I grow up. I’d immediately “yuck” her, because as an 8(ish)-year-old I couldn’t stand the idea of being on TV, possibly in front of a crime scene, possibly standing in the rain, telling the story of something horrific that just happened in a local town. I still can’t.

Meanwhile I would stay up late with my dad, (or often crawl out of bed and join him on the couch hoping he wouldn’t notice) and watch whatever he had on TV. More often that not, it was The History Channel, Discovery or National Geographic. There on that black leather couch I would try to understand the story the narrator was unfolding. I’d ask my dad all these questions about Stonehenge, time, space and the people across the world, as if he were Neil DeGrasse Tyson himself. Unfortunately for myself I was usually met with one of two responses:

  1. “If you keep asking questions and not listening you won’t hear what they’re saying.”
  2. A very long history lesson that puzzled me on how big our universe is, how long ago 4 billion years really was, what an advanced civilization is, or how fucked up humanity can be.

The perfect plan

Fast forward ten years. As a student at the City College of New York, I majored in advertising and public relations. I was sure I was going to pursue fashion PR after studying fashion design in high school. I thought about what I loved most about fashion, and it wasn’t the clothing. It was the endless stock pile of Teen Vogue, Seventeen, Marie Claire, and Vanity Fair I had piled up by my bed. I was enamored by their glossy full spread images, photoshoots and carefully written feature stories. I was convinced I wanted to be behind the brands and models and attend every Fashion Week event around the globe.

During late nights, I would tear out pages, cut out the glamorous shots, create messages with the cool typography and use them to scrapbook. I’d save pieces to frame and decorate in photo albums gifted to friends and family, which carefully documented the experiences with hand-written dates and descriptions. Though I was left with mostly magazine remnants, there were always a handful of issues I couldn’t bear to butcher. I didn’t know it then, but soon realized my favorite print pieces were the powerful feature stories about people and culture.

So, I minored in journalism and took a handful of publishing classes. Oh, and one astronomy lecture inspired by the childhood TV binge sessions with my dad, and visits to the Hayden Planetarium to be immersed in the Dark Universe show (this time actually narrated by Neil deGrasse Tyson).

The first “aha!”

Another print admiration I later developed was the meticulously laid out content throughout a magazine. Naturally I compared my cutting and pasting skills, ability to organize images into stockpiles, and knack for crafting scrapbooking vision to the experience required to produce a magazine.

One day I asked my journalism professor what role was in charge of designing a print publication. “The creative director,” she responded, “Although sometimes they’re called an ‘art’ director.”

There it was, the first aha moment of my career. That’s it, I thought to myself. This is what I want to do, who I want to be.

She continued, “Most of the creative directors have a graphic design degree or some kind of illustration experience.”

End scene.

That wasn’t the type of cut and pasting I had planned for.

My first aha moment came and went, all in the course of the 3 minutes before class started.

Listen to your “aha!” moments, even if you don’t act on each one

Between that moment and today, I’ve went on to have a series of “aha!” moments. I’ll spare you the stories on each, but there are a couple that continue to shape my work.

Early interests and the activities we gravitate towards as children tell us more about who we are than most things—as long as we pay attention

I’ve realized it’s the intimate stories about humankind, the petrifying stories about climate change and other discovery stories that have inspired me to pursue a career in storytelling, creative writing and brand development.

  1. Print has just been an accessible way for me to turn my scrapbooking ideas into a physical piece of work, but the endless hours of The History Channel, NatGeo and Discovery episodes I’ve watched with my dad cradle my now obsession with the latest environmental docuseries on Netflix—thank you, David Attenborough.
  2. My love for scrapbooking has never stopped. It has grown into mood boards inspired by my brief fashion education, an evolving five-year plan, and the places I most desire to explore.
The current mood board that sits above my desk

3. I’m convinced that if I owned a subscription to National Geographic earlier on instead of all fashion and lifestyle publications, my desire to telling powerful global stories would have come to me sooner. But if I didn’t have those experiences, I wouldn’t be writing this story right now.

4. Through these interests I’ve tapped into new hobbies that empower my storytelling, like amateur film photography and photojournalism.

5. My passion for traveling is heightened by the experiences that encourage me to write about them and the issues that impact those areas.

6. My mom was right. While young Dominique didn’t want to be a TV news reporter in the traditional sense, I am now okay with standing in the rain telling a story on the world even if it is about a crime—like the climate crisis.

6. Don’t set out on a journey to answer, “What do I want to be?” but rather “Who do I want to become?” or “Who inspires me?” and “What do I want to experience and accomplish?”

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Dominique Dajer

I’m a creative storyteller passionate about social justice. If you are too, follow me here: instagram.com/dominiquescrapbook | Editor at The Rosie Report