When we grow up, where do our dreams go?
Once I wanted to be the greatest
No wind or waterfall could stall me
And then came the rush of the flood
Stars at night turned deep to dust
Cat Power, “The Greatest”
When I was in my 20’s, I was convinced that I would graduate from college, move to New York City and become a writer. Then, I visited Manhattan and decided that I could never live there. The reality of living there hit me like two pigeons diving for a bagel: the noise, the smell (in fairness, it was August and there was a garbage-worker strike), the sheer number of people who all seemed far more talented and confident than me. I couldn’t compete.
Suddenly, the dream didn’t shine so brightly. While my writing was earnest, I convinced myself that it was ultimately not worth anyone paying a cent for. And just like that, my grand New York fantasy fizzled out, leaving me wondering if maybe a quieter life, one with less pressure and more room for mediocrity, was more my style.
Twenty years later, I had the opportunity to visit New York City again, this time with my husband. I wondered if that overwhelming pang of regret would lurk around every corner. Instead of being met with regret, I was met by joy. Joy of the city, the people, the noise, the history, the stories, the possibilities. Yes, often the street smelled like urine and garbage (summer again), and yes, the subways were unbearably hot, and there were many folks begging for food, without places to sleep at night. But amidst all that, I felt a thrill I hadn’t expected—a sense that, despite its flaws, New York was alive in a way few places could ever hope to be.
What changed for me? I had picked up writing again in the last few months and it was bringing me more joy than it had 20 years ago. And somehow, the idea of New York and the possibilities it held made me realize that my dream was still alive and still something that I could work toward, even if it was just for myself.
When do we give up on our dreams? Is it when we realize that someone else already invented that life-changing automatic cat door opener? Or when we decided that our sister was a much better artist than we would ever be? Does it begin the moment when Uncle Al in all his wisdom declares that our chosen career path is as profitable as selling ice in Antarctica? Or is it when we fall head over heels, get hitched, and suddenly our partner's dreams take the front seat, while ours get crammed into the glove compartment along with the expired registration papers that we neglected to throw away? Maybe it happens when we have children and we put their wants and needs above all else for two decades. Or maybe it happens when we become the default caretaker for an ailing parent or family member, our lives sidelined like a sitcom on a cable channel that nobody watches anymore. Or that simple moment when something that used to be fun just isn’t fun anymore.
It all starts innocently enough – we put our dreams on the back burner, promising ourselves that we’ll tend to them eventually. Then, we forget what we want, what we like, and eventually what we need. Then, fast forward to a lonely Tuesday, with no one shouting “help” or “Mommy” or “I need” for the first time in eons, yet the stress lingers, bubbling beneath the surface. And, you’re starving, staring at the fridge like it’s some alien artifact, unable to decide what to eat, because you can’t remember what you actually like to eat anymore. Suddenly, you wonder, just like David Byrne did in 1980, “Well, how did I get here?”
It’s so easy for us to become human doormats, putting others' needs before our own until our wants, likes, and needs are buried under a mountain of obligations that we can’t seem to get out from under. We mourn the loss of our dreams, convinced they’re gone forever, but I’m here to tell you they’re still there, tucked away like that once much-loved forgotten sweater in the back of the closet (You know the one.). They are still a part of you. Sometimes, a few quiet strolls down memory lane are all it takes to unearth them. Dust off those old dreams, try them on for size, and see what still fits. You might be surprised by what brings you joy, what makes you feel alive again, and what can guide you to where you’ve always wanted to go.
