My First Dream was to move to New York City.
As a kid, this was my only dream. In elementary school, the other kids wanted to be singers, football players, teachers, or cowboys. Not me. I wanted to be a New Yorker!
I had relatives who lived in Brooklyn and every summer they would come to Georgia to visit. They always asked my parents to let me come visit them, but my parents always said NO! My parents knew that if I went for a visit, I would never return. I wanted to move to New York so bad, that one day I ran away from home in the middle of the night. However, it was in the Fall of 2000 that I submitted my application to NYU. I was officially New York bound, but suddenly life happened. Then bills arrived, and children were delivered. Before I knew it, I was too busy, trying to be an adult, to dream.
Recently, I was reminded of my first dream during a late-night talk with a high school friend. We were talking about how neither of us are happy with our jobs and some other life choices. We both had graduated from college, but not working in the field that we owe student loans for. We both have a good life, yet we are not happy. During the conversation, my friend said, we should have stuck with our first dream. She’s right. It has been almost 17 years since I submitted my application to NYU, and I have visited New York many times. However, my first dream, of moving to New York, still excites me.
Do you remember your first dream? Do you remember that perfect story, that award winning play, or modern-day classic poem you wanted to write?
I know you have a job, limited free time, and other responsibilities, but write. Find the time to write. Make the time to write. Don’t worry if your first draft is not perfect.
Stop dreaming about writing a book and let others dream about the book you wrote.