On Dreams, Hopes, and Goals for Yourself
For the most part, my life these days feels perfect. Yes, of course, there’s a couple pieces I’ve been coveting for my closet, I’d love to have a corgi, and I wish plane tickets to the east coast were a bit cheaper. But in the larger scheme of things, it’s all good. I’m a few months in to the perfect job. I feel valued at work and good at what I do. I’m in a loving and supportive relationship. I live in one of my favorite cities. I have a great group of close girlfriends I can rely on for a yoga date or heart-to-heart. Again, it’s all good.
Which brings me to the problem: Growing up, through high school, college, and even navigating the year following graduation, I’ve always been reaching towards something not yet attainable, with the possibility of my not getting it motivating my movement forward. I was aggressive, tenacious with my hustle. Sending out upwards of 70 cover letters after graduation, it was the rejection that propelled me. However now, with everything I have, it feels like I’ve lost my ability to want more.
I’m reading Rachel Hollis’ Girl, Wash Your Face, and the last chapter I left off on was the transcript of an inspirational keynote speech she’d given. The takeaway? To keep pushing on when the world tells you no. Only problem: I don’t want more. Well, not in the way the world wants me to.
I hesitate to make generalizations, because I know social media can make it seem like you’re going without something that everyone else has, but it seems like every woman has entered and succeeded in the entrepreneurial space, building their passion into profit. It seems like every blog is telling me how I can optimize my social media presence and leverage Instagram stories to make my content more visible. It seems like everyone wants more for themselves than I want for me.
It’s not that I don’t have goals, but they seem humbler relative to what I should want. The current list? I want to pay off my student loans in the next two years. I want to finish my list of 80 books by the end of December. I want to grow a garden. I want to learn to salsa dance. I want a cat, and yes, a corgi. I want to go to Iceland and Norway and Denmark and Sweden. Wow, when I actually write them out, they seem real and meaningful. Maybe even worthy of a vision board.
No, I’m not pining after a graduate degree and I don’t want to start my own business. I want the things I listed above. And right now, they seem like enough.