You need to grieve their dreams...
...so you can sit in yours
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I was in bed (yes, so much thinking and feeling happens there), feeling something I couldn't articulate. All I knew was that it was unpleasant. It felt inconvenient to start my morning with such heavy energy, so I took a nap. I know I am not the only one who does this, so pack up that judgment.
One hour later, I woke up, and this feeling had not left. At this point, I could not keep eating into my day with naps, so I got on with my day. It feels like that's what most adults do, honestly. We get on with the day even when it feels hard. I ticked productivity off my list for the day. Inevitably, night came. And in its stillness, with the buzz of a to-do list gone, I couldn't distract myself from these feelings, so I turned off my TV show, put my phone on silent, and questioned my feelings.
What came forth were feelings of shame. I looked into my life and found that there was nothing tangible that I could present for people (read family members) to celebrate me. Yes, I started a blog with over 20K views per year, so what? Yes, I had written articles for prominent online publications, and? Of course, I had designed websites for big and small organisations, but did it matter?
There were people with 'meaningful' accolades like certificates and degrees from recognisable institutes around me, and all I had were online course certificates. I quickly realised that in the African set-up, I was one of the people who wouldn't be considered a decision-maker because I was not successful enough.
It felt like all I had was dust, and I had yet to do the 'right thing.' What was the right thing in this instance? The answer to this question made me realise that it had nothing to do with me. The 'right thing' referred to the assumed aspirations that I had attached myself to. Success was painted for me by others, and subconsciously, that painting was still in my gallery. I failed to recognise the success I was living in because that wasn't the one expected of me. That broke my heart.
I never imagined that I would grieve dreams that were never mine to begin with. Yet, it is what I needed to do for my dreams to take centre stage. The grieving process is odd, and it sucks just as much. As I took down this brightly painted piece of art, I heard the sounds of celebration fade away. It registered that I may never get the desired celebrations. That desire was the reason behind holding on to those dreams as tightly as I did.
It was over, and I felt sad. I wished I could convince these people that I was doing important work. I wanted them to understand the inexplicable joy I feel when I write or design a website. I just wanted them to sing praises of how I am proudly a student of the internet who found the green patch of grass during a dry season. I wanted them to take the front-row seats in my version of a beautiful life, but that was not up to me.
Neither is it up to you. You can't control what people feel about you and your choices, but you can control how you live. So, Oversharer, are you choosing to cling to dreams that do not serve you out of the desire to be counted and celebrated? Or is this your season of grieving and shining in your light?
I invite you to overshare in the comment section. *clink clink*
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"So, Oversharer, are you choosing to cling to dreams that do not serve you out of the desire to be counted and celebrated? " This was just the invitation I needed. Especially as African writers and creatives carving out paths of our own, I am having to grieve the perception/acceptance of others, esp family. But the grief is making space for my possibilities.
I am currently writing a piece about success, but it's mainly what I think it is and my judgment on myself. Validation is difficult to get, be it within or without...