The Choice.

I had the worst of dreams the other night.

Not gruesome, not violent, not terrifying, simply put: panic inducing.

I, Elan, was pregnant.

Now I know there is no way in heck I am pregnant (pretty sure you need a man as far as baby making goes), but it nonetheless shook me to my core.

Not that I don’t ever want to be pregnant, because I do. Oh certainly!

But now?

Ehhhhhhh the timing just isn’t right.

Still rattled from my all too realistic dream, I went ahead and did some research as to what pregnant dreams signify. Into Google I typed “pregnant in my dream” and within seconds, thousands of answers birthed themselves before my eyes.

Get it? Birthed?

Turns out, according to the web, being pregnant in your dream often entails that “an aspect of yourself or some aspect of your personal life is growing and developing, one that you may not be ready to take public yet.”

Well ain’t that the truth.

It’s not just some aspect of myself that’s growing though, it’s the whole kit and caboodle and there are some parts of that growth that yes, I am not quite ready to take public yet.

I’ve recently taken a new role in my work-life, I began the laborious but incredibly thrilling search for a home and I’m working on some personal insecurities of mine that are currently inhibiting me from pursuing my dreams.

I wouldn’t be so cliché as to call myself being stuck in a “rut”, but I’ve definitely come to the point in my life where I’ve lost inertia in regards to making things happen.

I have a lot of ideas, passionate ones that I’ve been cultivating and growing for a long time and I’m to the point in which I’m ready to move forward with them, but I’m not ready.

All of these concepts stay stagnant as ideas because I don’t have the thing to make them happen.

So what’s the thing I’m missing?

For a while, I couldn’t figure out what it was. I blamed it on lack of money, lack of qualified individuals and connections, and lack of belief from others, but the other night, after a rather brutal heart to heart with someone who knows me better than I sometimes know myself, I got the answer I’ve been looking for.


I’m missing belief, and not from other people, but from myself.

It’s a rough realization, especially devastating because I’ve spent all this time perseverating over fabricated threats when all along, the problem lied within.

A bit of a bump in the road, but now that I’m aware of this lack of belief in myself, I can start working on fixing that mindset.

I’m at a pivotal moment in my life where I either choose to stay stationary and forever regret not taking a chance and believing in myself, or I can choose to bust a move and make those ideas tangible and real.

It’s time, because the longer I wait and put it off, the more painful it becomes to be reminded of my indecision. And I know I can’t just forget about it because it’s something that lives and breathes within me and if that idea dies, I die with it.

It’s showtime for me. I came back here for a reason and it’s about high time I make some effort on making these insecurities about believing in myself distant memories. 

Because right now, they’re the only thing standing in my way.