More Magic ✨

I’ve only had school scheduled on my birthday once. That’s a major perk of being born two days before Christmas. That year I had a birthday party the weekend before. I was ten, and because of the way the calendar fell, I was able to have a party with friends at my house. It was an exciting day made even more exciting by the gift from my parents: a riddle that led to my new pony.

Growing up, I loved asking “What if?”.

What if we jump so high we land on the moon?

What if dragons are real and they’re hiding in the mountains?

What if my crush likes me back?

It’s fun to ask what if, to imagine something that could be possible. I’d come up with fanciful stories and outlandish futures. That one question felt like a magical pen to write any scenario I wanted. It was the center of my dreams.

I grew up in a house with a lot of glass. The front part of the main floor housed two sets of glass front doors, which made our entire living room and kitchen visible from the outside. A country house nestled on several acres of land at the dead end of the gravel road, it was by all metrics a safe and protected place.

Unless I was home alone at night. 

I never see friends on my birthday. It’s not intentional or planned but just the way things are. Being born two days before Christmas means that there’s always something else vying for attention. Who can compete with family holiday celebrations, last minute shopping, or the unexpected blizzard?

My siblings and I often debate about who’s more controlling. This has always been a struggle for all of us, and I don’t know when exactly it started. 

I remember once when I was little, I wanted to catch a lightning bug. My anticipation increased as we fed the fish that evening, the warm air sticky on my arms and legs, a classic Indiana summer night. The fish bobbed up to the surface, opening their mouths and swallowing the food whole, but my attention kept shifting to the trees beyond the pond and the shadows beneath their branches. The sun had set and its last glow was quickly fading from the sky, which meant one thing: the lightning bugs were about to arrive. 

I didn’t feel my body for 30 years.

For most of my life, I viewed it as a tool, an extension of myself that wasn’t truly me. Since it was a tool, I used my body to help me with what I needed–a mechanism to create my intellectual and social pursuits with the occasional dip into pleasure in the form of sex, food, and laughter.

Unsurprisingly, my body did not like being treated as an afterthought, as something to be used and abused. So it responded with pain. I don’t know exactly when this started, but one of my earliest memories is in sixth grade when I complained to a friend after second period that my stomach hurt. She responded with, “You say that every day.” 

That was when I learned to dislike my body.

Two strings of drool dangle from Fern’s jowls as she watches pedestrians pass us on the sidewalk. She pants with her tongue poking out, and whenever something catches her attention, she closes her mouth, cocks her head, and observes curiously with the pink tip of her tongue still visible. Once her curiosity is satisfied, she returns to panting and lays down with a sigh. An afternoon well spent. 

I have two dogs — Luna, a small Havanese-Shih Tzu mix, and Fern, a three-year-old Newfoundland puppy. While Luna is just as neurotic and anxious as me (is this because she’s a Virgo, a fellow earth sign?), Fern is the happiest, most chill creature I have ever met. 

After a particularly bad bout of depression and anxiety (thanks, PNW winters), I decided to put down my motivational books, close my meditation apps, and set aside my ego to learn how to be content and happy from the only being I’ve ever known to embody this nearly all day, every day: Fern. 

In 2019, I quit my job.

The plan was to focus on building a new business to have both time freedom and financial security to create my ideal life.

Ideal life – that was the trendy term back then. It seemed everyone had a course or service that would help you take back your time and create the idyllic future in your mind.

So I set to work creating that life. I calculated the number of hours in a year, broke them down by week, and figured out exactly what I should be doing and when.

I wrapped up my MBA and created a sound strategy for my new business grounded in research, data, and proven processes confident that my ideal life would be there in no time.

But a year into the business, I realized that the thing about creating an ideal life is that there is a cost. It’s not just the financial requirements of pursuing something new (though those obviously exist), but more about the secret costs that no one can truly prepare you for.

The truth is that when you start pursuing your dreams, you have to let go of something in the present.

And sometimes, those things are really good and part of you doesn’t want to.

When there’s something you want, making the decision to do it isn’t the hard part. It’s overcoming the fear of rejection.

Whether it’s a new job, a date, a creative ambition, or even asking a friend to meet up last minute, the act of trying to make it happen has a potential outcome that makes it hard to get started.

What if it doesn’t work? What if they say no, turn me away, laugh in my face?

Sometimes it’s easier to live with the daydream, the what if, because that’s safe and comforting and far better than the alternative.

Because in the daydream, you are successful. You got the thing you wanted. You know that you are capable, that it is yours, that you are worthy.

Motivational speakers, inspirational Pinterest boards, and positivity social media accounts all encourage you to pursue your dreams.

“Never give up!” they say.

You can do it!

Anything’s possible!

Bet on yourself!

But all of the exclamations and positive thoughts ignore the flip side of the dream coin.

Nightmares.

Whether you dream of starting your own restaurant or becoming a full time musician or simply being more present with your day-to-day, there’s nothing like pursuing your dreams to bring on a new level of loneliness, imposter syndrome, and feelings of helplessness. These twice-monthly updates will help remind you that you’re not alone, that you can do it, and inspire you to keep going right when it gets tough.

Welcome to the community. Let’s make our dreams happen.

-Demi