The Only Realists Are Dreamers

I most recently asked who you would want standing next to you when all your dreams come true. I spent all week focusing on the type of relationship and type of person I wanted to fill that role, that it didn’t once occur to me that I wasn’t exactly sure of what those dreams even were.  I am approaching the big quarter century birthday, and every year I get older I seem to understand less and less what it is I want to be and where it is I want to go.  Gun to my head today, I’m sure I would say my dream is to be a writer.  Or a record label A&R. Or maybe a promotional manager for an entertainment company.  The truth is, I’m not sure what I want to do with the rest of my life. 

When I look at my life 10 years from now, I don’t see a career.  I don’t see a huge house, huge bank account, or a big office with a great view of some big city.  When I look at my life in 10 years I see kids.  I see loud, obnoxious, rug-rats making my red curls turn gray by the minute.  I see myself helping them with their homework, and reading them books before tucking them into bed.  And I see myself working every day to be the most supportive and loving wife to whatever loser ends up sticking it out for the long haul with me. I see myself reassuring him that though we may not have all the money in the world, that he should continue going after his dream of being a rock star, comedian, basketball player, magician…whatever.

Maybe that’s why I have always gravitated towards marketing.  The happiest moments I can remember over the past 25 years have had far less to do with me.  And so much more to do with seeing the success of the people around me.  Especially if I had a hand in that success, to know that the effort I make can bring to life to the dreams of someone else.  That’s why I can’t wait to have kids.  To create something for the sole purpose of being in their corner, loving them and supporting them unconditionally.  Even when they don’t deserve it. And to feel so proud in the moments that they discover their own happiness.

I’m pretty bad at handling my own life.  I run from my problems, I avoid dealing with the real issues. I have become a master of pushing things so far down that in the far and few between moments I actually talk about them, it’s like I am telling stories about a stranger.  The moments that I feel at my best, and strongest, and the least alone, it’s when I am making someone else feel their best, and strongest, and least alone. 

So I guess that’s my dream.  To be someone that matters to other people.  To be the person that is standing next to someone when their dreams come true.