*Dream big, little one. Photo by Randy Tarampi, Unsplash*

For a long time, I had a secret dream. I kept my dream quiet. I hid it in a little box; one that I’d take out and play with every now and then when no-one was looking. I didn’t tell a soul.

My secret dream was to be a coach and an energy healer.

The story I told myself

I’d speak to people who were coaches and I’d think, “Wow. I wish I could do that.” And yet I’d put them in an entirely different bracket from me. In my mind, they were out of my league. The story in my head said: How can you possibly think you can do what they do? All the million and one reasons why not had a field day in my head (I’ll talk about the stories in our head another time – wait for it!).

At the heart of it, I felt deeply afraid of what other people might think of my dreams. I felt afraid of being ridiculed by my peers, by my family, by coaches and healers. I felt afraid of having people stomp on my dreams.

Facing the critics

In all honesty, some people did stomp on my dreams when I finally admitted them, although most of those people did so with good intentions. There will probably be more of that on this journey.

And yet, so what? I know what I’m passionate about and why I’m here to do this. I know who my people are (and I know who they aren’t).

And, just as there have been naysayers, plenty of people have cheered me on and told me I was made for this (thank you, people: you know who you are and I love you).

Of course, alongside the external critics, there’s also the inner critic – and this one has more impact than all the other people put together. It’s harder to say “So what?” to the inner critic, which is always there, piping up when we step out of our comfort zone.

I’m learning to speak to mine differently these days. To acknowledge that it feels nervous, anxious or afraid, and that it’s just trying to keep me safe, as it’s been doing since I was a shy, scared little kid. I’m learning to witness how it feels, to say, “I’ve got this, I’ll be OK, regardless of what happens.”

And then I follow the spark towards whatever ignites me from the inside.

*What’s your secret dream? Photo by Ethan Hoover from Unsplash*

Naming it

So how did I go from fearful to naming it? For one, I’m lucky enough to have teachers and coaches who called it out in me, and to each of them I am grateful. They showed me there is no shame in owning our dreams.

When they named it without judgment, and when they encouraged me, I started allowing my dream to infiltrate my everyday reality. It slowly began to seep in. I began to claim what I wanted, to tell the world, and in doing so, my world went from black and white to full-blown Technicolor. My life is infinitely richer now than it was before I claimed my dream as my own. I feel fulfilled and excited by what’s possible. What’s more, I’m actually having fun.

What do you want?

I’ve seen this same fear playing out in so many other people I speak to. Like me, they haven’t shared their secret dream before – probably because they feel afraid of having someone invalidate what they want.

But underneath the uncertainty and the self-doubt, it’s there. It’s peeking through their eyes, in their posture, in the tone of their voice, and in their gaze. It’s that little spark of strength that knows. It says, “I want to be a leader” or “I want to be a coach” or “I want to write books.” That spark might even say, “I want to be a full-time mum (or dad) and I don’t want to work.” Whatever it is, that spark says: “I was born to do this. It’s time to do this.”

Do you have a secret dream? Is there something you’re burning to do with your “one wild and precious life”? (Credit to Mary Oliver for those beautiful words.)

What would happen if you owned it? It might be scary, sure, and it will come with its challenges.

Consider, however, the alternative: what happens if you don’t own it?

What got me over the line was imagining my future self on my deathbed. If I looked back and saw that I hadn’t pursued my dreams, I knew I’d feel hollow, grey and deeply disappointed in myself.

What about you? If you were on your deathbed, and you looked back, knowing you let your dream die in the dust… what then?

4 takeaways from this post

Name your secret dream. Admit it on paper, say it in the mirror, tell someone you really trust.
Envisage how much more fun and fulfilled your life will be if you claim what you want.
Use the deathbed exercise to explore how you’d feel if you didn’t pursue what you want.
Acknowledge that you feel fear… and take the leap anyway.

Love,

Tamsin xx

Do you need someone to support you in claiming your secret dream? I’d love nothing more than to help you own it. Drop me a line if you’d like support, or book an Initiation session here.

Own it