believe it or not, i'm actually generally very happy in this season of life! that's probably why i'm able to write about this, analyzing it instead of just surviving.
buckle up. this could get heavy.
i have observed that sometimes, in the midst of important relationships, i will sometimes inevitably create dreams for my future that are tied to those people. sometimes they're hypothetical futures we create together. other times, it's just me imagining the possibilities of things we could do or build together.
either way, this is beautiful, and hopeful, and exciting, but it can also be dangerous. this may actually be sort of a sequel to my post about vulnerability. because in that moment, that person becomes inextricably linked to something attached to your very core. now something about you is dependent on them, or at least, cannot be fully detached from them without a lot of difficulty.
so. if, for some reason, that future becomes impossible, it can be devastating. the example that immediately comes to mind is when that person is no longer in my life, or not in the same capacity as they once were, so i'm going to use that to continue the illustration.
i have experienced this more than once. ways i have dealt with it include 1) shutting down all dreams and hopes for every version of the future--in essence, trying to erase the stakes, 2) creating only dreams that i can carry out without others' involvement (reducing the risk involved), and 3) carrying on the core value of that dream within my own identity. there may be others, i'm sure, but these three stand out at the moment.
1) shutting down dreams and hopes
i've been asked from time to time what my hopes and plans for the future are. the thing is, after the last dreams you've constructed have just come crashing down, it can be difficult to believe that rebuilding is worthwhile. it can feel like anything you do or hope for is futile in the face of the sudden changing of fate. sometimes, in this mindset, i have said "i look into my future and see only a void." not morosely. not to be dramatic. just to try to be honest and realistic about what my expectations for the future were--in other words, i didn't have any anymore. (whoa, pull up a little, we're nosediving.)
2) eliminating dependence on others
this is maybe not the worst way of handling this situation. my main issue with it though, is that it sort of circumvents interdependence, which i do believe is important. there's kind of a "strong independent woman" vibe about this that, if i examine it closely, seems like a cover up for insecurity.
3) internalizing and identifying as the dream
this is an interesting strategy because it seems to be trying to do a few (perhaps contradictory) things at once. in some sense, it carries on the memory of something that was once meaningful to me. sort of a "we'll always have Paris," situation. it also, maybe consequently, validates what once was. if i have been permanently changed for the better for knowing someone, even if they're not in my life anymore, it feels like providing empirical evidence that the experience of knowing them, both in joy and pain, was worth it. and when an important relationship ends, believing that it was all worth it can be a balm for the sorrow of the loss. that doesn't mean i don't still care about those dreams in and of themselves! but i have not found great success in extricating the--often painful--memories of the relationships that founded them. though sometimes, over time and through giving the dreams enough alterations and alternate contexts, they can eventually somewhat transcend the context in which they were created.
what's the result of all this? in an effort not to ignore the past, i continue to carry on the torch of what used to propel me forward, though the person/people who initially made me care about it are, in some respect, gone. and then at the same time, i try to avoid the same outcome in the future, so i stop dreaming, so i will minimize what i have to lose.
but isn't that kind of backwards? at its worst, it carries around the burden of the past whilst destroying propellant toward the future. and isn't the whole point of dreams to fuel us to move forward?
now. today, i am remembering that Hank Green has mentioned that you don't owe it to your past self to fulfill the dreams that you used to have. it's an interesting insight that, while i think it's probably true (at least most of the time), i wrestle against a bit, for the above reasons. i tend to have a strong connection to my past--i believe that who i used to be is still kind of a part of me, to some degree.
that being said, i'm contemplating the wisdom of allowing one's old dreams to die. or like, even old preferences, interests, or thought processes. i think sometimes i hold onto things long past they point where they have stopped being beneficial. it keeps me trapped in a trajectory toward a dead future, unable to open my mind to other possibilities that exist in reality.
all this does seem to be part of any grieving process. it's not like i've never done it before. but in the moment, it can be hard to discern what the right way forward is. when is a relationship functionally over? when is a dream impossible to fulfill in its original design? how important is the dream itself compared to the people the dream was constructed around? is it better to do more cutting and throwing away, or more altering and recycling? surely it depends on the specifics of the situation. but perhaps if i didn't try to salvage everything, it might make it easier to create new hopes for my new reality.
not only that, actually. step 1: i tend to think about the past AS the present for like . . . a weirdly long time? so perhaps, for moving forward when i need to move forward, seeing old dreams as something i *used* to want or something i *used* to care about, it might make it a little bit easier.
