Big goals can feel scary
What is it about stating that you have really big goals that feels so audacious? It’s probably a universal feeling to claim you have big hopes and dreams when you’re just starting something. When I started my nonprofit, I told very few people my plans before I quit my job and officially announced the organization. On one hand, I prefer to talk about what I’m doing rather than what I want to do. But I think in this instance, it feels a little more audacious to claim I have big plans when I’ve already done big things and failed. And I use the term “fail” loosely here because while things didn’t work out how I wanted – I learned SO MUCH and am so proud of everything I accomplished. Most of all, I’m so proud of myself for doing something so scary.
When I told my husband about my business ideas, I told him that the ultimate goal was to build something so that I could use it as a proof of concept for creating courses to teach other people. That idea didn’t resonate with him. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that the ultimate goal was to stop trading our time for money. Frankly, I’m not sure he believes that’s a possibility. I’m pretty sure his only excitement about the business idea is solely based on the fact it is a marketable service based on a niche expertise he and I both possess. Even so, I don’t think he actually believes the business has the potential to make enough money to hire him full-time and easily replace his current salary. But I’m betting that I’ll be the breadwinner in three years, and in five years, he’ll have the option to leave his job. This is me manifesting that shit.
Playing small
When I returned to school to become a registered dietitian (RD), I didn’t actually intend to spend much time practicing with patients. I was more intrigued by all the avenues through which I could generate passive income. I liked the idea of using the RD licensure to work in various settings if and when I chose. But really, I thought I would focus my effort on creating a course that likely focused on prenatal, postpartum, and infant/toddler nutrition. This, of course, was impossible for me to relay to anyone before I was pregnant. It didn’t feel like I had a right to have a voice on the topics for which I had no experience. And sharing this interest preemptively would have led to questions about my childbearing desires. Which, of course, would have led to added stress to what was already a stressful path.
Even after I had Arlo, I still had difficulties relaying this hope. As I was wearing a five-month-old Arlo at my sister-in-law’s wedding reception, a family member asked me what I hoped to do as an RD. I remember saying something to the effect of liking the versatility of the profession and being interested in the ability to work PRN (I don’t even know what that acronym stands for!!) for hospitals to calculate feeding tube needs for patients. Thankfully, I got into a coughing fit and had to excuse myself from the conversation and reception area. And then Arlo was ready to nurse. But I remember sitting in a tucked-away area as I nursed Arlo and replaying that moment in my mind. Feeding tube calculations!? That’s what I said!? Why the hell would a 36-year-old with a master’s degree pay to go back to school for four years so they could have a lifelong career as a feeding tube calculation specialist!?
I felt the need to play small and minimize my aspirations because I didn’t feel I had a right to dream big. I felt the need to come up with something that sounded responsible and safe. Who was I to share I had more lofty goals following such a big failure that everyone seemed afraid to acknowledge?
Dreams evolve
But, as my motherhood journey progressed, I felt less drawn to the idea of developing a course or speaking from authority on any of the topics that had once interested me. Why? Because the last thing I wanted as a new mom was anyone else telling me what I should and should not be eating or feeding my child. I spent my pregnancy and early months of motherhood consuming every book, podcast, and piece of content I could get my hands on to guide me in my journey. And you know what? In the end, it did not bring me joy. Constantly worrying about what experts think I should be doing was overwhelming. It took me several months to finally trust my instincts and feel confident that Arlo would turn out fine if I ignored everyone and listened to my intuition.
Despite remembering how much I craved the kind of information I once hoped to create – I lost all desire to contribute to the noise in that space. The idea felt disingenuous. What kind of a marketing tactic would it be to say – “Here’s what I did. But you do you, because everyone is full of bullshit anyway”? So, once again, I felt the need to pivot my aspirations. And though there would still be plenty of things I could have done as an RD that would have interested me, none of my remaining interests felt BIG enough.
Claim your boldness
Just last week, my best friend was visiting, and we had the opportunity to go to dinner alone. We were somewhat on the topic of what the hell I was doing with my life. I told her I had no plans to finish my nutrition degree. She asked if I had considered starting a local meal prep business. I told her I didn’t want to do something like that because prepping food for others all day would steal my joy of cooking. And while that is true, it also omitted my most significant reason for not considering such a venture. The idea was too small. It didn’t have the same potential for distancing the trade between my time and money. But even talking to my best friend, I didn’t feel I had the right to claim that I had such big goals.
I’ll wrap things up here. I have a lot more to say about lofty goals and why we all deserve to have and harness them, but I’ll put a pin in that for a bit. Now that I have a real website, complete with homepage and menu bar, I can really get to work.
Thanks for listening to these ramblings. Feel free to leave a comment to let me know I’m not just talking to the ether over here. Until next time…
P.S. Shout out to ChatGPT for helping me write headers for this blog post. Kind of. The suggestions mostly sucked, but they helped get me unstuck, so that was something.