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Writer's pictureHaley Liberty

Why do we stop chasing our dreams?

At what point in time is it appropriate to stop asking "what do you want to be when you grow up?" and, why do we ever stop?





I was sitting at work one day, minding my own business, scrolling though emails and calendar invites for potential clients when I received a call from a manager. She asked me, whilst in the middle of a completely separate conversation, what I was going to school for. When I responded, she was silent for a few moments before saying 'oh'. She went on to say that she thought I would have been striving for something 'better than that', something more unique or extreme or exciting. And that's when it hit me for the first time...


Is this really what I want for myself?


She thought I would have been striving for something better than that, something more unique or extreme or exciting.


She went on to mention that if I ever wanted any career advice, mentoring, or had any questions concerning my future, to let her know. Don't get me wrong, I was flattered. But it left me feeling lesser then; maybe even a little bit dejected. I woke up the next morning with a stark realization:


When and why do we stop chasing our dreams?


I guess I need to clarify that I am chasing a dream, it's just not the dream that I had fantasized about when I was younger. I am currently half way to graduating with my BA for Human Resource Management; sounds thrilling, right? I've got it all planned out for myself. Graduate, get a SHRM certification, enroll for my masters in business admin, and then win a top-dollar career working for a massive company that does (some) good for the planet, whether it be for education, environment, or health care. And while this does pull from some aspects of my original dream, it still veers far from its point of origin.

In the beginning, I wanted to be a psychologist for high profile inmates, specifically those held in solitary confinement. Yes, I wanted to be a shrink for murderers. This was around the time I was sixteen or seventeen. Old enough to know the difference between a 'fantasy job' (such as being a vampire) but still too young to really understand the implications of what this job required. As I grew, so too did my dreams. From a child, to a teen, to a young adult, society shifted my dreams from big and bold to realistic and obedient. By the time I was eighteen, I wanted to be a therapist. Then a nurse. Then a dental hygienist. Then a hotel manager.

You get the picture. As I grew up, my dreams grew down. I was no longer inspired by the idea of chasing what I dreamed because the reality was simple: school is expensive and I don't want to graduate drowning in student loans. I became okay with the idea of playing it safe.


I became okay with the idea of playing it safe.

The kernel of originality that remains in my current 'realistic dream' is this: I like helping people. I am not passionate about business management or the structure of corporate enterprise, and while I do rock a suit, I had never thrived to hide my personality behind black and white. I am not passionate about economics or law or or money or politics. I am passionate about helping people. I chose HRM because it is literally everywhere and almost guaranteed to be a comfortable paycheck. I chose it because, for the amount of schooling necessary and the opportunity cost associated, to me, it was equal. I chose my career path by logic, not by passion. And while I know I can go back to school or specialize in 'conflict management', it just feels a little defeating not to be doing something that I am passionate about now. I gave up my dreams under the pressure of a society that tells you your dreams are not obtainable.


And then I wondered...


At what time does society cultivate the notion that we must go in one direction? At what point in time is it proper to stop asking 'what do you want to be (when you grow up)?' Maybe it's from the moment you come out of the womb. Or maybe it's when one is about to graduate high school. Eventually, most people choose one direction and stick with it, switching degrees until they feel most comfortable with their decision- or they give up. 'What do you do' is such a commonly asked question here in America that we don't even blink an eye when it's asked, yet, in other countries, it's hardly asked. Because what you do for a living doesn't define you. Asking 'what do you want to be' from a young age perpetuates the idea that what you do for a living determines who you are, including all of the glamorous assumptions that come with the job. (ie: cooks drink and use drugs; lawyers are egotistical and prude; janitors are high school dropouts...etc). It births the idea that if you don't have a good enough job, that you weren't working hard enough or that you just don't care- that your job determines more about you than your personality, ethic, and morals.

Maybe it's when reality sets in. Adulthood. Education costs money- life costs money, and the only way to make money is to work. You have bills to pay, mouths to feed, expectations to meet, so you fold. You throw your dreams aside and look the other way; reaching towards the comfort of a stable and easy paycheck. Or maybe you looked up schools and realized that you couldn't afford it. Or maybe you tried and failed. Regardless, your dreams dwindled as soon as you 'grew up'. Nobody tells you when you are younger that your dreams won't help you as an adult. So you fantasize. Reality is dream crushing.

And then there are those who, with no formal education, do exactly what they want to do and become incredibly successful. While this is obviously impossible for some professions such as doctors or pilots, some people have the drive to make it happen. Passion as a verb is a strong thing. The act of doing, working, and staying motivated.


Passion as a verb is a very strong thing. The act of doing, working, and staying motivated.


I always told myself that I would work to make money so that I can afford the things I love, and to live comfortably. But I never realized the moment my dreams became so rational. It was in this moment that I realized I needed to lean into my passions. That without them, I was genuinely unhappy. No, I did not give up my job or my schooling to start creating, but I did remind myself why I was doing what I am. It helped me remember why I started, and where my end game lies. To dream rationally, is better than to not dream at all.

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