The Difference Between Dreaming and Deciding

I called it a writing retreat.

That's the name I gave it while it was still finding its shape. Something small and manageable enough to start. Florida for a few months. My happy place. A part of Florida I'd never seen. Space to focus on writing the book about my dad's disappearance that had been living in my heart for years.

But I knew myself. The more I thought about the idea, the more I realized I'll want community there. I'll need to work. I'll want roots. Just like that, a writing retreat for a few months had become a zip code change. Not in one big dramatic moment. In a handful of logical yeses, each one leading naturally to the next.

I held onto it in silence while I worked out the details. Not because I was unsure, but because I'd learned enough about energy by then to know that a new dream doesn't need the weight of other people's fears alongside it while it's still taking shape. Their concern wouldn't have changed my mind, and I didn't want to carry what wasn't mine. So I protected the field around what I was building and let it grow.

I told my kids in March when I drove to Tulsa for my daughter's 21st birthday. I gave my 30-day notice at work at the end of June. Then, on Labor Day weekend of 2018, I pulled into Panama City Beach and started the life I had been envisioning for months.

That's the thing about deciding. It rarely looks like one bold moment. It looks like a series of small, clear yeses. Each one a little braver than the last.

Most of us only make changes when something forces us to. But the difference between a dream and a life you're actually living isn't a crisis. It's a choice. Here are three things I've learned about what intentional deciding really looks like, and why you don't have to wait for life to go off the rails to start down a new path.

Most people wait for a reason to decide

I get it. It feels responsible to wait. Wait until the timing is better, the kids are older, the finances are clearer, or the fear is gone. Sometimes life does hand you a reason, like a layoff, a diagnosis, or a relationship ending. Those moments crack things wide open, and sometimes that's exactly what it takes.

But here's what I learned from being on the other side of a decision I made before anything forced me: waiting for a reason is just a longer way of staying where you are.

The winter before I moved to Florida, I was in a genuine funk. My birthday came, and I barely wanted to celebrate. I wasn't depressed exactly, but I wasn't lit up either. Something felt off. Then a guy I was getting to know mentioned he couldn't imagine ever leaving the Midwest, and it hit me right in the chest. Because I had been telling myself "someday, warmer winters, a life more aligned with who I am" for years. Here I was, exploring dating someone whose someday looked nothing like mine.

That moment didn't make my decision. It put me on the path to something I knew deep in my soul. I was ready. I just hadn't said yes yet.

You don't need a crisis to decide. You need honesty. Sometimes a little thud in the chest is enough.

Real deciding happens in layers, not lightning bolts

There are decisions we play out in our minds. The dramatic resignation letter. The tearful goodbye. The conversation that set everything into motion. Yes, those moments can happen. But they're rarely where the decision actually gets made.

The decision gets made in the in-between. In the small, almost unremarkable yeses that stack up over time.

For me, it was Florida. Then, a part of Florida I'd never seen. Then, I know myself... I'll need community. Then work. Then roots. Each one was a logical piece falling into place, almost obvious. None of them felt like a leap. Together, they added up to something that looked pretty brave to others.

This is important because many people wait to feel ready for the big decision when they just need to say yes to the next small one. You don't have to plan your whole future today. You just have to decide the next thing.

What's the next small yes available to you right now?

The yeses you say privately are the ones that change your life

There's a reason I didn't broadcast my plans right away. It wasn't fear of judgment or worry that someone would talk me out of it. It was something simpler and more intentional than that.

A dream in its early stages doesn't need an audience. It needs room to develop. When you share something tender before it's solid, you end up managing other people's emotions alongside your own excitement. Their worry, their questions, their well-meaning doubts; none of that is bad, but it adds weight to something that's still finding its way.

So I kept it between the people I trusted most and me. I let it take root on its own terms. By the time I told the world, I wasn't asking for permission or reassurance. I was making an announcement.

That energy matters more than most people realize. The dream you tend carefully while it's forming is the one that becomes your life.

Let me leave you with this. You probably already know what you want. You might have been calling it something smaller, something safer, something that sounds more reasonable during a discussion at a dinner party. A side project. A hobby. A someday plan. Underneath that smaller name is the real thing, and it's been waiting on you to say yes to it.

You don't need a crisis to decide. You don't need a lightning bolt moment. You don't need perfect timing, a clear plan, or anyone's permission.

You just need the next logical yes.

Speaking of yeses... I'm putting something together for people who are ready to stop dreaming and start saying yes. Something live, something hands-on, and something I genuinely cannot wait to share with you. Details are coming next week. More soon.

What dream have you been giving a smaller, safer name?