Is it too late to dream

Is It Too Late to Dream at 44? Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I'm just getting started. Growing up, I honestly can't remember spending much time thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up. At twelve years old, I already thought of myself as a little adult. I was the oldest of twelve children, and childhood didn't always feel like childhood. My mother struggled with drug addiction, and there were times when she would disappear. At first, it might be a weekend. As I got older, those weekends turned into weeks, sometimes even months. I remember one time when I was around fourteen or fifteen. My mother disappeared for approximately two months. When she finally came back, she was pregnant. Growing up was a struggle in ways that are hard to explain. There was always something happening, something to adjust to, something to figure out. I don't think I spent much time imagining my future because I was too busy dealing with the present. When you're young, you're supposed to dream. You're supposed to imagine what you'll become, where you'll go, what kind of life you'll have. But what happens when you're too busy trying to get through childhood to think about any of that? Now here I am, at 44, asking myself a question I probably should have asked a long time ago. Is it too late to have dreams? And the funny thing is, when I actually allow myself to imagine what I want, my dreams aren't extravagant. I don't want a mansion. I don't need a huge house with rooms I don't even know what to do with. I want something small. A comfortable home with a big backyard. And I want to garden. I don't know exactly where that desire came from, but I think about growing my own fruits and vegetables. I imagine having a little garden where I can plant tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and whatever else I decide to experiment with. I picture myself walking into the backyard, checking on my plants, picking something fresh, and feeling proud that I grew it myself. Maybe I'll be great at gardening. Maybe I'll kill a few plants along the way. We'll see! I also want to get my driver's license. Yes, at 44! Now, I can't promise that the other drivers on the road won't have a few interesting experiences while I'm learning. 😂 But seriously, I want that independence. I want to be able to get in a car and go somewhere without having to depend on someone else. I want to experience things because I want to, not because the opportunity happens to fall into my lap. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that these little dreams aren't really little to me. A home that feels peaceful. A backyard I can call my own. A garden that grows because I took the time to nurture it. The freedom to drive myself wherever I want to go. Those things represent a life I want to build. For so long, I think I've been focused on getting through things. Getting through childhood, family struggles, loss, grief, and all the unexpected turns life has thrown my way. Somewhere along the way, I wonder if I forgot that I was allowed to want things for myself. I am 44 years old. I don't have all the answers. I don't have everything figured out. And I certainly don't have a perfect plan. But maybe I don't need one. Maybe I can start small. Maybe I can learn to garden before I have that big backyard. Maybe I can start working toward my driver's license one lesson at a time. Maybe I can allow myself to imagine a future without immediately talking myself out of it. I spent so much of my younger years feeling like I had to be grown before I ever really got the chance to be a child. Now I want to give myself permission to discover the things that make me happy. I don't know what the next chapter of my life will look like, but I want to be an active part of writing it. And maybe that's where the dreaming begins. At 44, I'm learning that it's not too late to want something different. It's not too late to try something new. And it's certainly not too late to start living a life that feels like my own. So, I have a question for you: Have you ever reached a point in your life where you realized you had spent so much time surviving that you forgot to dream? And if you could create the life you really wanted, without worrying about your age, money, or what anyone else thought, what would it look like? I'd love to hear about it. Because maybe some of us aren't too late. Maybe we're just finally getting started.