Breaking free from dreams
For many years, I only had my eyes on a single dream. I planned my life around it, tiptoed on narrow alleys so I can walk religiously on that same path until the end.
Just like everyone else, I paused. I wavered. I stumbled. I even did a lot of “self-gaslighting” to push myself to the finish line.
But one day, the path became less walkable. I kept tripping. I kept finding shortcuts. I hurt myself so many times and the bumps on the road made it harder to go on. My entire being was exhausted.
Just like everyone else, I tried.
I didn’t want to take another step forward. It was a whole lot of physical and mental stretch for someone unstable like me. I saw a bench and I sat there for a long while.
I needed a rest. And so I did.
My earthly body felt relaxed after chasing and running for a long time but my mind wandered to all the places I could have been by now. To the time I’m wasting while pondering about the future and uncertainty. To the people who were waiting for me to reach the destination.
There are moments when your entire being feels stiff and you can’t move. I now know why I’ve been desperately trying to find a bench. I am ashamed to admit it but I’m not sure I want my “dream” anymore.
Don’t get me wrong. I know that in many aspects of our life, we have to keep going without certainty. I know that not all dreams can come true and whatever I miss in this life is probably not for me. I know that there’s no rush, there’s no timeline — only the self-made scoreboards we keep. All the same, I still feel like letting go. I still feel like breaking free.
A huge part of me wanted to stay on the bench for a very long time as if taking the next step forward will lead me into another long bumpy road. I didn’t want to spend my time walking on another long road just to end up desperately looking for another bench. I didn’t want to strain myself anymore. And I didn’t have the time to process overwhelming emotions. It was as if my entire soul was filled with tangled spirals I couldn’t seem to sort. There was no space left to grieve. At least at this point.
It pains me to think that maybe I’m not courageous enough to pursue the things that I want. That I was scared to realize that I don’t want my dreams badly enough to take a leap of faith. It feels unreal to be sitting down when there’s so much work to do. It feels like a betrayal to slow down and breathe when there’s no sight of that light nearing the end of the tunnel.
When I was younger, someone told me that dreams can change. I laughed at the thought because dreams are supposed to make you jump out of bed, dreams are supposed to lift your spirits, and dreams are supposed to inspire you. And lo and behold, I found myself agreeing with that sentiment a few years later. “Rest if you must but don’t quit.”
That’s what I keep hearing these days. And sometimes I fall back again and ponder — is it so wrong to quit? Is it wrong to feel so exhausted? Is it so wrong to realize that maybe some things are not for you?
One thing that dreaming taught me is sometimes there are circumstances beyond our control and we can’t do anything about it. No matter how hard we try, we can’t achieve some things. We can only move forward and hold it in our hearts that another version of our dream is perfectly curated for us.
Years ago, I would never have thought of saying this but dreams can change and it’s okay to let go. Dreamer, I hope you know that it is extremely difficult to walk away from something you have known and believed for a long time. I know that on a perfectly ordinary day, I will still cry over the dream I let go of. I will still feel envious of the people who pursued their stars. I will still feel the betrayal, that feeling of overwhelming void that will hit like death and grief. I hope you know that your broken dreams will be a part of you forever but it doesn’t make you less of a person and have smaller chances of a brighter future. I hope you know that letting go is a humanizing act, a brave move that not all people could do.
I find myself standing up from the bench, walking forward. I don’t know where and how to pick it up from here. I just know that no matter how exhausted I feel, the world is still a vast space. And there are places I haven’t conquered yet. There are people I am yet to meet. And even if I wither, I can bloom again in my season.
For now, maybe going home is a nice idea. I’m going home to tuck myself into bed and dream about flowers.
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Danica C. Cayme, 27, is a medical technologist who likes calligraphy, creative journaling, and illustrating using oil pastels.
