There was a time when my dreams were small because I was still small inside myself. Not unworthy — just unawakened. Just carrying too much, believing too little, trying to stay safe in a world that had not always been gentle.
But something changed.
One morning, I looked into my own eyes in the mirror and told myself I was beautiful. It was the first time. No audience. No rehearsal. Just me, choosing myself — quietly, and for the very first time.
And somewhere between that moment, and the pages I kept writing, I grew. Quietly. Steadily. Sacredly.
And now my dreams have grown with me.
I no longer dream from fear. I dream from truth. From healing. From the woman I’ve become — the one who knows her voice carries light, the one who knows her words can travel farther than her wounds ever did, the one who finally understands that humility and magnitude can live in the same heart.
This is what it means to dream in proportion to who I’ve become: to let my vision match my growth, to let my calling match my courage, to let my future match the size of my soul.
I am no longer dreaming small. I am dreaming honest. I am dreaming aligned. I am dreaming as the human the Universe shaped.
And that feels like freedom.
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