I'm a divorced single parent. It's safe to say I've had a few dreams about my life that have been dashed against the rocks of life. But it's not the end of dreaming. It's just that the dream changes.
I've a younger friend. She's in her early 20s. She's recently hit an age when she realised the dreams that she had as a teenager for her life, may not be possible.
Remember what it's like to be a teenager? So assured that by 20 you'll have this career, by 25 you'll have that love life, by 30 you'll be financially secure, life will be firmly established and you'll be living the dream. I remember being that teenager. I was going to be a writer. I was going to be living in California and writing amazing novels that flew off the shelves and straight onto the best seller lists. I was going to be alone, certainly not married, but dating a never ending stream of men who were as fascinated by me as I was by them, but never, ever, tied down.
Fast forward to age 20 and I was a filing clerk for an accounting firm. Fast forward to 25 I was married and sitting on the couch on the weekends. Fast forward to 30 I'm a dumbstruck, sleep deprived parent. Fast forward to 35 I'm a divorced single parent with a mattress, some clothes and a pointless wedding ring to my name and thinking HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?
It wasn't until my marriage ended and I was left with nothing to my name, not a single asset and only the clothes on my back that I was forced out of my stupor and actually started to think about what dreams I had for myself and how I could now achieve them, alone, responsible for two kids and with a nary a penny to call my own. Well, colour me stupid, but I've always responded best with my back to the wall and the world screaming "You Can't Do That". One year later, I was back at school stuyding film/tv/radio/multi-media, producing an amateur film, working on local tv as a film reviewer, 20 kilos lighter and loving my crazy, new life.
But one thing I did realise was that even though I did kinda get to where I wanted to get with my new dream, my old dream was over. My friend however, can still give it a shot. She's single, not tied down, has supportive parents and supportive friends. She had big ol' knock down, cry your eyes out vent to me. How on earth could she be 26 and not be where she expected to be? How could she still be working part-time and only able to achieve her acting ambitions on the amateur theatre stage? When did it stall? When did it falter? How is she still where she was, when she was 20?
I told her I had the same meltdown moment. With one glaring difference. I was 35 and had two kids in tow. I had to change my dream to be able to live it. She can still get there. Now it's just up to her to grab it with both hands and don't let the fear take hold.
The upshot is at the end of the meltdown and with a renewed sense of purpose, she and I are going to put our heads together and create our little piece of something special. Hey, maybe it will never be anything other than a document on the computer somewhere. Maybe it will just be a writing pad with scribbled ideas of the newly excited - but we're both excited about being excited about our lives.
The joy of dreams is - they are just that. Ever changing, ever evolving, exciting thoughts for our future with an occasional underwear clad talking goat. I'm so glad that my old dream died. I got in the way of my dream, I got in the way of my life for a little while (yep, you read that right, life did not get in my way...let's get that straight!). But in the end, it was a blessing, because I had to know myself, before I could know what dream was right for me. Now that I do - I just have to make it happen. And I'm just the sort of stubborn, arrogant, know it all, organiser from hell who can get it done.
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