Dreams That Aren’t Mine
Ever since I was little, I’ve heard stories—of great successes, of glorious victories, of bright worlds waiting to be conquered. I was raised with the idea that dreams are our guiding light, that they are the engine of life, that we move forward through them. But over time, I began to feel that some of those dreams weren’t mine. They seemed to belong to someone else, to an image built from the expectations of others—of society, of family. They were foreign to my heart, yet I carried them like armor that protected me but also weighed me down and held me back. This was one of the most painful truths I had to accept—that many of the dreams I had chased weren’t born of my soul. They were someone else’s dreams, imposed by the outer world, by voices I heard before I had the chance to hear my own. At first, it was hard to admit this. We all want to be loved and accepted, and often we’re willing to sacrifice our own desires just to be approved. My life felt like a journey guided by map...
