Popping the Fantasy Bubbles

And finally breathing into what’s real

I always wanted to be something — a writer, an inventor, a teacher, a businesswoman. I saw myself in so many different roles, maybe because I didn’t get the chance to try different hobbies as a kid. Most of my life has felt like chasing my own tail by testing jobs, dating different guys, switching up my style- always wondering if this was me searching for myself or just running from the shadows of my mother and sister. Maybe my “bigger vision” was always more fantasy than roadmap.

In my fantasy world, the plan was neat: one day I’d run into my college sweetheart, we’d fall in love again, get married, and have the most gorgeous children. To protect that plan, I poured myself into career—so I wouldn’t be one of those women who “lost themselves” after marriage or kids. But the truth is, I never shared those dreams with anyone. Maybe keeping them locked inside was why they never came true. Maybe I blocked my own manifestation.

Fast-forward: my husband and I were on the brink of divorce when I actually did run into that college sweetheart. The one I lost my virginity to. The one I spent years—decades even—fantasizing about. I built him up into a savior in my head, even masturbated to the idea of us being together again. Then we finally talked and all it took was hearing, “I’m not great with communication”—and the fantasy shattered like glass.

And when it popped, something in me shifted. I saw my husband differently. I saw the ways he does show up, love me, see me. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t pushing away the care and doting I’ve always longed for. After starving for it since childhood, I could finally recognize it.

A part of me still grieves the family I imagined with my ex—the mom and sister I adored and always wanted, the picture-perfect life I thought I’d slot into. But that was never real. What’s real is the man who sits across from me now, and the way he loves me in a way I didn’t even know I deserved.

So maybe it’s not too late. Not too late to become who I want to be. Not too late to let go of fantasies I clung to for survival. Not too late to step into the reality that’s been waiting for me all along—without my old ideas getting in the way.

Turns out, popping fantasy bubbles doesn’t leave me empty—it leaves me with more room to breathe.

“Check your fantasy at the door.” — Dorinda Medley

Dorinda knowns best ;)

XOXO,