Monday Mood: Outgrowing Old Dreams
What it means when your old dreams don't align with the new.

By: Violet McCleod, Madeline
Sometimes the things we want don’t match the person we’re becoming. And that’s okay. Such is life as a human being; we are transient, ever-evolving. Some of us have a laser-focused goal that has stayed with us for years, and some of us have a closet of hobbies past that we haven’t thrown out because we know the second we do, we’ll get the yearning to return. I respect both, and I am the latter. My room is full of stuff that I’ve used twice and never again, but I know I need to hold onto them for when the fever comes back.
When we move on, it usually tends to come with guilt. Thoughts of failure, of being a disappointment, of not being able to “handle” the chosen path… all of that is a mental distortion. There is no inherent failure in seeking a new path in life; we’re allowed to open new doors. That’s part of being human. Give yourself the grace and space to get to know yourself and what you truly want.
You have your own unique journey through life, and it is yours to do with what you will. If you’re struggling with finding out who that is, that’s okay. You’ll get there. Just keep doing the work, and it will eventually become clear. You can do this. If there was hope for me… well, anything is possible, my friends.
I’ll leave you with the haunting, hopeful melodies of Madeline.
Music of the day — Madeline
“Hell is Empty” — The Celestial Mechanic (Doctor Who: The Time Of Magic) (YouTube)
I did not always want to compose music. For as long as I can remember, and probably even longer, I wanted to pursue visual arts in any form. That was the path I had chosen for myself. It was only when I started working with music that I realized how much less I connected with visual design fields in terms of pure enjoyment. I can still use the skills I learned, and sometimes I need to, but they have become more of a practical tool than a career path or even a hobby.
When I first decided to move away from that path, I felt tremendous guilt. It felt like I had invested too much of my life into one direction to ever change course. I believed I owed it to myself to see it through to the end, no matter what. I had staked my entire sense of worth on a bet I no longer believed in, and it was a harrowing realization. That fear grew even stronger when I thought that I might never be as successful in my new field as I could have been in the old one. Still, for my own sake, I had to try.
I have been writing music for more than seven years now. Like any artist will tell you, my early work pales compared to what I am able to create today. But at the time, I did not care. I was proud to be chasing a dream that was truly my own, and that pride mattered more than any imperfections. Eventually, though, I wanted to prove to myself and to the world that my decision to let go of my old dream was not in vain. I had to raise my standards.
"Hell is Empty" is a song I wrote for an audio drama project late last year. It is one of several pieces that came straight from the heart, raw and unfiltered. Though the subject is personified in the lyrics, I wanted to capture the feeling of letting go of the past as honestly as I could. It was hard at first to reflect on all the goals I had to set free to become who I was meant to be. But in the end, looking back at those abandoned dreams showed me how vital they were. Even if they were not meant to be my destination, each one was a stepping stone toward my truest self.
There is no need to mourn every goal you outgrow. It is enough to know they mattered. Moving away from a dream is not giving up; it is a sign of motion. Not every step will be in a straight line, but every step still counts. If I had the chance, I would gladly take the scenic route again.
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