To the dreams I had to let go, and to her who dared to dream

A dreamer. That’s what they called me growing up, especially as a kid.

“Your dreams are so high.”

“Wow, you want to become a…”

“You have so many dreams.”

I want(ed) to be an actress, a writer, a dancer. I had passions. I knew what I wanted to be, and everyone I knew knew what I wanted to be. It was a gift because, unlike others, I wouldn’t have a hard time figuring out what I wanted in life. I knew my path, and as they coined it, I had a “direction” in life.

It was a gift until it wasn’t.

I grew up. And when you grow up, you become more open to the struggles in the world. You realize that not everything is possible. Well, maybe it is possible, but there are questions of “will you be successful?” “will that put food on the table?” So, I resorted to another dream — being a flight attendant. The prospect of seeing the different sides of the world and making a difference in people’s lives intrigued me. I grew fond of it and I still had my life all figured out.

Then I became an incoming college student. And when you enter that stage, you become expose to the reality of life; it isn’t just about you anymore, it’s about the people you love and the future you want for them. Then you further learn the word “practicality.” You contemplate, you become confuse, and you let go of another dream. Another fallen star in the constellation.

Here I am now, grieving the dreams I buried and the death of the person I could’ve been. But who knows? Maybe I’ll learn to love this new path I chose. After all I’m a dreamer and I’m passionate about all the things I do.

I hope someday I find the courage to pursue my dreams again. Because I know she’s still here in me, and as long as she’s here, those will never shatter.

May we all become who we really want to be and reach the dreams we’ve always desired.