It’s Okay To Grieve The Dream That Will Never Come True

It’s a part of you that deserves dignity

Lately, I’ve had to think very hard about the future of my freelance writing career.

In 2018, getting into freelancing was way simpler. If you were a good writer and a hard worker, you were almost certain to make money. When I quit my job and moved to a new city, life ahead looked pretty smooth. I’d write — something I was naturally good at — and spend the money from that writing on nice makeup and fun vacations.

And for a while, that was in fact my life.

But the world has changed like crazy since then. The pandemic happened, and then AI. There are at least 10x more writers in the market than there were in 2018, and with budgets being slashed everywhere, the competition even for mid-paying projects is massive. As for those lucrative “fast-track to six figures” opportunities? It’s like trying to snag front-row seats at an Eras concert. As I recently shared, it’s been over a year of consistent trying and I still haven’t come anywhere close to a steady income, let alone six figures.

And as I think about what lies beyond, it strikes me that I may have to let go of the dream where I just write and watch the money roll in.

I’m still not giving it up entirely. But even the possibility that I may have to terrifies me.

And that’s a perfectly natural feeling to have.

The “get back up and get going” mentality is overrated

There. I said it.

Every time I encounter content about failures or setbacks, it’s all about “don’t waste time wallowing in self-pity, get moving, fix the problem, let’s go let’s go let’s go”.

But it’s hard to give up your dreams. Bone-crushingly hard. You poured so much of yourself into that dream, and I’m not just talking about the effort. It’s the hundreds of hours you spent thinking about it, ideating it, imagining how happy you’d be once you had it.

So why this rush to move on? Why this obsession with finding solutions when we’re still in a state of shock? Why can’t we give ourselves permission to feel what we feel, however deeply we feel it?

Unhealed grief = unstable foundation

You could use the best building materials, but if your house is made on loose sand, it won’t be stable. You could date the most marvellous partner in the world, but unless you’re over your ex, that relationship won’t work out.

The same goes for growth. If your mind and heart are fundamentally not in it, you won’t be able to progress. Something will hold you back, even if you’re objectively checking all the boxes. You’ll find it hard to come up with ideas, you’ll find it hard to stay consistent, and then when things don’t work out like the career influencer promised it would, you’ll blame yourself for not being good enough.

It’s not you. It’s not the influencer. It’s your unhealed wound calling out for a break.

Unstable foundation = unresolved anger

I had a dream where I was financially settled and had a steadily rising career by age 30.

Whatever might happen in the future, that dream is definitely not happening. I’ve known that for a while.

And I was angry about it. And I kept feeling angry about it. And the angrier I felt, the more I scolded myself for “wallowing” and tried to suppress it, which — surprise surprise — led to even more anger.

And because that anger never had a safe outlet, it leached into other parts of my life. I became bitter, resentful, passive-aggressive. I’d lash out over the smallest things, have random sobbing fits, find something to criticise everywhere, make every situation about me. I was an awful person, and a lot of that behaviour could have been avoided if I hadn’t constantly been tamping down my anger as something shameful. And needless to say, I didn’t make any headway with my career goals either.

Stop. Step back. Take the time you need to grieve.

If you’re feeling those feelings, this is the only way to help yourself.

Take a step back. Disconnect from all the “be positive” content online and let yourself feel bad.

Don’t give in to the voices that shame you for doing so. Don’t listen to people who tell you to get over it. Acknowledge your feelings, respect your grief and anger, and do whatever you have to in order to process the reality of not achieving that dream.

And in case you’re worried that that’ll translate to months of fruitless moping, it won’t. If you give yourself the space you need, you’ll find yourself automatically wanting to build back up after a while. You’ll find yourself opening up to new dreams. You’ll start trying out new approaches. Except this time, it’ll happen much more naturally, and the work won’t seem that hard either. And that’s because your mind isn’t running with a broken leg anymore. It’s healed, and it’s ready to be in full-speed high-achiever mode.

You aren’t wrong to have once dreamed a certain way

All your life, you’ll keep receiving new inputs. And the more you receive, the more your dreams will evolve.

But don’t get into the trap of looking back at your past and thinking: “Oh haha, I was so dumb to want that.” No, you weren’t. It’s valid to want certain things, and it’s valid to be sad that they didn’t happen.

My dream of wanting a stable career by 30 wasn’t dumb. The dream has shifted now, and I’m happy with the shift, but I continue to acknowledge that it would have been nice to accomplish the old dream. In the last couple of months, I’ve given myself the space to mourn the loss of that dream, which helped me get to a point where I could pivot without it feeling forced. I’m chalking out new growth plans now, and I’m doing so in a positive frame of mind. And the difference is palpable.

I’m glad I invested in healing. And you’ll be glad you did too. :)

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