I Left Everything To Chase a Dream-And Failed

I stood in the middle of a city I’d never been to, clutching a duffel bag and a folder full of half-written dreams. My bank account had $287 left. No job. No place to stay. But I had hope—and in my mind, that was enough.

They say “follow your dreams,” but no one tells you that sometimes your dreams will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you broke, alone, and questioning everything.

This is the story of how I left everything behind—my job, my comfort zone, and even some friendships—to chase something I believed in. And how I failed. Spectacularly.

🌆 The Leap

I used to work at a marketing agency. Decent pay, a desk by the window, and a boss who rarely made eye contact. It wasn’t terrible. But every morning, I woke up with a pit in my stomach and a question I couldn’t ignore:

“Is this it?”

I’d always wanted to start my own design studio. Nothing fancy—just a small creative agency that did authentic, meaningful work. One night, after an especially soul-draining meeting, I typed up my resignation letter.

Everyone told me I was making a mistake.

"You’re giving up stability."

"You’re not ready."

"You’ll regret this."

And I did regret it… but not in the way they thought.

💼 The Dream Collides with Reality

I moved to another city with the idea that change would fuel creativity. I had plans, notebooks, and a portfolio. But clients didn’t come. Emails went unanswered. My “network” turned into a ghost town.

The days blurred together. I applied for gigs, reached out to contacts, even designed posters for free—anything to get traction.

I was chasing something big, but the world didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

Two months in, I was sleeping on a friend's couch and eating instant noodles. I remember staring at the ceiling one night thinking,

“I gave everything for this... and I’m failing.”

📉 The Breaking Point

The real crash came when my laptop died.

No laptop, no work. No work, no income. I cried for three hours straight, not because of the laptop, but because it was the last straw. I was done. I wanted to go home, pretend this never happened, and quietly disappear.

But something strange happened the next day.

I took a walk just to clear my head. No purpose. Just to breathe. And as I sat in a café with a borrowed notebook, I met someone who changed everything—a woman who owned a local bookstore and needed help with branding.

I offered to do it for free. She insisted on paying me. One small project led to another. Slowly, I began to rebuild.

🌱 The Truth About Failing

Here’s the thing: I didn’t “make it” the way I imagined. I didn’t become famous. I didn’t make six figures. But I did discover something far more valuable.

I learned how to survive rejection.

How to keep going when the path is foggy.

How to find beauty in broken plans.

Failing taught me how to listen—to myself, to life, to the quiet voice inside that still whispered, “Try again.”

🛤️ What I Found

It’s been two years now.

I still run a small creative studio. Some months are good, others not so much. But I get to work with people I believe in. I get to create with heart. And I wake up without that pit in my stomach.

Chasing your dream might break you.

But staying where you don’t belong will destroy you slowly.

I failed. And then I found myself.