Toxic Ambition: Stop Chasing Dreams You Don’t Want Anymore

If you’re reading this, it’s probably because you’ve realized that the dreams you had when you were younger — dreams you’ve been working hard to achieve — aren’t actually what you want anymore. It’s time to stop chasing them.

But that’s a scary feeling. “How am I supposed to start over?” “Look around me at all of the things I should be grateful for!” “Wouldn’t it be a waste?”

You have to let that go. The sooner, the better.

Acknowledge the person you were when you set these goals. Remember: she was doing the best she could. Her literal brain was still developing. Give her permission to move on.

That’s the best advice I’ve got for you.

If you want to know why you should believe anything I say about this topic, trust that I’m speaking from experience. I too have been guilty of chasing dreams I no longer wanted. Here’s my story:

When I was 22, I was working as a researcher for a college professor (read: getting paid to do my homework) while completing my MBA at night and working as a marketing intern at Kellogg’s. It was a grind.

The year was 2011.

I started climbing the corporate ladder. After 9 months at Kellogg’s, I got my first salaried position in marketing. And I worked my way up from there.

By the time Lee was born in 2014, I was making enough for Mitch to quit his day job and become a full time stay-at-home dad.

We got our first apartment together. Then a two bedroom townhouse. And a few years later, we purchased a 4-bedroom house on an acre of land in North Carolina. We bought the picket fence and everything.

We’d done it! We’d achieved the “American Dream.” But when we looked around, it didn’t look quite as dreamy as we’d imagined.

And then we met the garden.

We started spending all our time outside. We tilled up more square footage in our yard than the floor plan of our entire house — just for vegetables.

We bordered out 80 square foot garden beds with reclaimed bricks. Mitch built a chicken coop with reclaimed wood. Eventually we turned our front yard into a sunflower field, corn rows, and a pumpkin patch.

That garden was epic.

I found peace I’d never experienced before when I had my hands in the soil. I developed a connection to the Earth in that garden. And I vowed to help my kids build that same connection.

We were always outside.

That’s when the idea that I was chasing dreams that I didn’t actually want crept in. Within months, I realized that the big house, the two cars, the fence, all the toys and gadgets and clothes — none of it brought peace.

The American Dream was nothing more than a distraction. I wanted so much more.

I had a lot of guilt about that at first.

Getting rid of most of the stuff to pursue full time travel was pretty easy for me. But the kids’ toys and books were a huge challenge. Truthfully, the kids didn’t mind too much. They got to bring their favorite toys and books along. But the mom guilt was strong.

And you should have heard the nasty things my inner dialogue had to say about taking away my kids’ private bedrooms (which, I may add, they never even used because they always slept with us).

I hung on for too long.

I wouldn’t let go of the old dream. I forced myself to smile and be thankful and carry on. I wrested with it until I had no fight left in me. And when you live like that, burnout is the natural consequence.

I only made it three years.

Truthfully, I probably could have hung on longer if the global pandemic and an election year that ended in insurrection at the United States Capitol hadn’t piled on. Between all that, starting a new job, and having our homeschool routines totally upended by social distancing right when as started getting the hang of it, it was all just too much.

I finally looked at Mitch and said: “I can’t do this anymore. We’re working so hard to keep up with this life we built. But look around! Do you even want any of this stuff?” He didn’t want it either.

So we changed directions.

And what felt like a failure at the time, now happens to be one of my favorite stories to tell. Because there’s a really important lesson in it. And it’s this:

It takes courage to admit that you want something else. And it takes even more courage to decide to make the change. You’ll probably second guess yourself, struggle with guilt or anxiety, and get strange looks from people who don’t quite understand your journey the way only you can.

But admitting that you want change and deciding to go get it are the scariest steps.

The light at the other end of tunnel just keeps getting brighter after you take those first couple. Eventually, the brilliance of watching yourself make new dreams come true outshines the rest.

Stop chasing dreams you no longer want. I know and you know that you are capable of so much more.

Carry on, sister.