dreamless

is that synonym of adult?

with imminent change ahead i have been reflecting a lot on past decisions. i mostly think back on my teenage years, wishing i could open up my scalp, pick at my brain and figure out what is it about being a teenager that makes us act that way.

i don’t just mean why we turn mean and bitter toward our parents, slamming doors and screaming into a pillow. life definitely felt more dramatic back then—i was more dramatic back then. but what is it about teenagers that gives them that raging fire to get through those years undefeated?

sometimes, i lament having lost the rebellion that once inhabited my heart. i would get into heated arguments over anything i believed in, defending it to death if i had to. now i mostly roll my eyes and react with indifference—not just toward the person but also the argument being made.

is this what it means to be an adult? to suddenly compromise and commodify your beliefs and principles? because i really don’t want that to happen to me. i’ve always struggled to accept things i cannot change, which includes the entire world and how it works. as a teenager, i would get riled up whenever my parents declared, “that’s just how things are”, whenever something was unfair. why did i have to accept all of which i’m not happy with? why can’t i have different expectations for what life can be?

i realize i’ve been asking a lot more questions than giving answers in my writing these days. a while back, i read how your twenties are a time in your life when you realize how little you know. you go from being sixteen and thinking the world is your oyster to being twenty-three and not knowing in which direction to step in next. as a teenager, the infinite possibilities felt liberating. now, they just feel overwhelming.

i knew that teenagers sparkled. i knew they knew something children didn't know, and adults ended up forgetting.

-lorde, a note from the desk of a newborn adult

really, what is the secret of teenagers? i pride myself on being rational and realistic with my life decisions. i decided to study a major that allows me to work almost anywhere, instead of literature. now i’ve decided to pursue a masters that will help me land a good job with a solid salary, maintaining a lifestyle i’m used to. my parents must be proud of how rational i’ve become, considering money in all matters. but i used to reject this way of thinking. i rejected the very idea of living a life defined by making money.

now i worry about having enough money to live in a nice area and still have a little extra to spend going out or buying things i would like to gift myself. of course, when i was a teenager i didn’t know i would prefer living a comfortable life to dedicating my life to writing and books. but not only that but it fills me with regret to know i used to value individuality and being true to myself over earning money. through the years i came to an agreement with myself, i could still write and pursue writing it would just be a bit more informal than what i originally envisioned.

and yet, as i stand on the edge of change, i realize i might not have any dreams anymore and it makes me profoundly sad for myself. i don’t allow myself to have dreams like i used to.

dreams of writing scripts and books, of going on press tours, meeting people that connected to my writing, driving a light blue new beetle, adopting a dalmatian, just to name a few that i remember. writing them down i realize they’re doable but they feel almost too domestic now. i can’t tell if that’s because my current mindset has tamed them or if they were always this grounded and i just saw them differently as a teenager.

it’s hard for me to even step outside my comfort zone by writing down crazy dreams i used to have. like opening a school and teach english to little kids, or traveling constantly—finally going to greece with dani after our middle school delirium with greek mythology.

that reminds me of an old bucket list i found, it was written in high school and it’s pretty ridiculous but it proves my point.

bucket list (circa 2017)

there’s no awareness of the value of things, $400 won’t even get you on a plane to europe to begin with but we wrote that down just like we wrote down “throw such a good party the car ends in the pool (if we have one)”. even the possibility of having a pool feels a million light-years away now. i don’t dare to write things like that anymore, but reading that list stirred something in me. for the first time in years, i thought, “i would like a pool in my house,” that’s a dream, i suppose.

this entire substack is steeped in my pessimism, or what i call rationalism and i apologize for it. who am i to put out into the world that having a pool is a crazy dream? why won’t i allow myself to dream as big as i did when i was sixteen?

i have been able to earn money and pay myself for things i’ve wanted to do for a long time like see my favorite band in concert, travel with the people i love. and while i’m grateful for that, i hold myself back whenever i feel like i’m dreaming a little too far from reality. i shoot myself down before i can formulate a complete sentence.

not long ago, someone mentioned how my dream was moving to mexico. i went home and that phrase followed me, it haunts me. i couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, i didn’t find it in me to explain how i am dreamless now. you could ship me to a different country and i’d probably feel the same.

i’ve worked so hard on accepting change and embracing it—after i was scared shitless the first time i was meant to move countries—that i have become too flexible in what i want. i see myself building a life almost anywhere. i have created resilience that has cost me my dreams and wants, and even knowing myself.

i say this but i feel like a hypocrite because i adamantly fought to make my dad accept that my first choice was, and still is, mexico city. so yes, i love that city but i love it because i got to know it. who is to say i wouldn’t love london if i’d been there? that’s what i mean when i say i’m dreamless, i shoot an arrow into the sky and hope for the best. and the best for me is what i know but i know so little.

i’m not saying i’m not getting what i want when it comes to moving to mexico city—i am. but it aligns with the rationality i mentioned before: a stable job waiting for me and nights filled with classes. these are things that secure a comfortable life and future but i want to want more than just a comfortable life.

just because my dreams are different than yours, it doesn't mean they're unimportant.

-greta gerwig, little women: the screenplay

this leads me to another conundrum, is it so bad to want a comfortable, traditional life? does that make me a failure of a modern woman? i don’t think so. to want more simple living, a cozy home and a warm bed isn’t wrong or a failure at what life could be. but even the most traditional dreams are not as easy or simple as they seem.

for instance the traditional housewife dream might include a beautiful house, lovely kids and a loving partner to raise them with but even that dream is much more complex. for instance being a homeowner feels almost impossible nowadays and finding someone to build a family with takes effort and patience just like raising kids, constantly worrying you might fuck them up. so even the most traditional of dreams aren’t stress free or actually simple, but that’s my issue. if even traditional dreams are this hard, what guarantees i could achieve a beach house and a dalmatian? why would i put myself through that disappointment?

even now my future isn’t actually secured, not even with my plans that align with the rules of reality and rationality. so why am i so apprehensive to admit my wants are bigger than i led to believe? that i aspire to more? because although a traditional dream is perfectly fine to have, it’s not my dream and i don’t want to accept a dream that’s not mine.

dreaming is for the brave and i’ve been a coward lately. so as an exercise to push through my pessimism, here are five dreams i wouldn’t normally allow myself to have:

1. i dream of a beach house and hosting my friends with their families, little versions of them running around the dinner table

2. i dream of publishing a book, or several books actually, children’s ones but also essay ones like sloane crosley

3. i dream of working in a movie, on writing a script and telling a compelling and human story that stays with people the way many films have stayed with me

4. i dream on having a studio and library in my house, with big window panes that remind me of the libraries in the shadowhunter’s institutes

5. i dream of having a dogs and cats refuge, maybe it could even double as a café for people to meet the animals they might want to adopt

dreamers (n.d.)

writing that list took an embarrassingly long time, i even had to research dreams people usually have to get ideas because it’s been so long since i have allowed myself yearn for anything beyond what i consider doable and realistic—or at least what i hope is realistic. like traveling to europe to visit my best friend or showing the people i love around my new city. then there are the dreams i’ve always carried with me, though they feel less like dreams and more like goals.

i don’t subscribe to the belief that sharing your wishes or dreams will jinx them or prevent them from coming true. to me, expressing your aspirations is simply sending your intentions out into the world, and there’s no harm in that. yet, there’s a wish i always make and never mention out of fear: to be happy. it’s my ultimate dream, the one i repeat when i close my eyes to blow the candles on my birthday cake, graduation, christmas—any moment i can wish for something i wish for that. it’s such a short phrase but it carries immense weight. this year i changed it up slightly and wished for happiness alongside the person i love. but at its core, it’s the same wish: a life where i’m not just content, but truly fulfilled.

i’ve always felt that wishing for happiness was a safeguard, a way to ensure that no matter what choices i made, i would’ve secured happiness. it’s a wish that avoids specificity, like wishing to live in a particular city that i might grow to dislike or a career choice i might later regret. i like to keep my options open when wishing and dreaming but the cost for that is never truly wishing for anything concrete.

so here’s an ode to my past selves, those who dreamed with abandon and had dreams larger than life. i don’t know what coursed through my veins as a teenager that made me feel like an electric wire, buzzing with energy and yearning, but i’m determined to reconnect with that. dreaming shouldn’t feel shameful like asking too much so what are some big dreams of yours? i genuinely want to know. to create a space for them within me, and in the weeks to come, if we talk, i’ll happily lend you an ear in exchange for your dreams.

-the destroying angel