I always dreamed of living in a castle. Big queen energy. No lifting a finger. As a kid, my imagination was on overdrive. I pictured myself spoiled, surrounded by luxury, never lacking anything. It was a big, pink, fluffy, pillow-like cloud of fantasies and dreams. But as I grew older, that majestic mirage slowly morphed into a fun-filled flop.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you . You must be just as delulu as me. Welcome to Part 3! You’ve survived my childhood dreams, met my five young kings, and now we’re stepping into the part where things aren’t always what they seem. What do I mean? Keep reading…
As a kid, no one could convince me that I couldn’t do or be anything I wanted. Tell me I wouldn’t have a castle? I’d think you were CRAZY. Maybe people thought the same about me when I shared my big, hairy, audacious goals, but if you’d asked why I dreamed so big, I’d have said, “Maybe you’re just small-minded.”
Sadly, after enough people laughed at me and called my dreams unrealistic, that big, pink, fluffy cloud shrank until it disappeared. Time to go back to the drawing board.
Okay, maybe a castle was too much. But what about a mansion? Yeah, that’s more reasonable. I watched celebrities on MTV Cribs living large, so why not me? Ashanti swore, “Dreams are real, and all you have to do is just believe” (I used to sing that with my whole soul). So there I was, walking with my head high like Kanye, “La, la, la la wait ’til I get my money right” and every time a hater tried to stomp on my dreams, I clapped back with, “Excuse me, was you saying something? Uh-uh, you can’t tell me nothing!” (Kanye, not Clone-Ye.)
But life… oh, life had its way with me. And let’s just say its way wasn’t my way (like Usher). I’ve lived just about everywhere except a castle or mansion. I’ve lived with my mom, two of my aunts, my grandma for a bit, friends, an ex-boyfriend, an ex-pastor, and now with my husband and my circus animals (clears throat)… I mean, children. You know what I meant. Those dreams of living lavish started looking more like living tragic.
Still, here’s what I’ve learned: the picture you paint as a child for your future might be a fantasy, but that doesn’t mean the dream dies. There’s always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow if you keep walking. People say “chase your dreams,” but that’s the worst advice ever. If you’re chasing your dreams, that means they’re running from you. Stop chasing, start manifesting. Keep pursuing the life you want until it meets you halfway.
I may not live in a castle, but I live in a casa (close enough, right?). I may not have a mansion, but I’ve got my man and my sons (so maybe God gave me a “man-son” instead. Not the kind I was searching for, but definitely the kind I needed).
The moral of the story? CONTINUE TO WRITE IT. Write YOUR story! You are the author of your life. Pick up the pen and lay out your story. You are powerful. The only person stopping you… is you. Want the mansion? Go get it. Want the castle? Go get it. Want to take over the world? Call Pinky and the Brain! (Yeah, I just told on myself with that reference… Shoutout to the 90s babies.)
We spend too much time letting other people tell us who we are and what we’re capable of. Stop letting them speak fear and lack over your life. TAKE BACK YOUR POWER. Because really, what’s the worst that can happen?
If you’ve enjoyed this blog, don’t just sit here, there’s more to come! But for now… STOP READING. You’ve got BOSS moves to make.

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