All this work I do helping women reclaim their dreams?
I did it. And I didn’t even notice it!
I just realized something.
All this work I do helping women reclaim their dreams?
I did it. And I didn’t even notice it!
My dream was never specifically to become a writer or a painter.
My dream was to make money from home.
And somewhere along the way, writing and painting became the vehicles that made that dream real.
But here’s the part that just knocked me sideways:
There was another dream.
One I set down about 30 years ago and completely forgot about.
Baking.
Not cookies. Not muffins. The real kind. Bread. Pastry. Things that take time, patience, and your whole entire Saturday.
I remember saying once, a long time ago: I would love to learn how to bake.
And then life happened. Marriages. Moves. Survival. Caregiving. Performing. And that quiet little dream just... sat there. Waiting.
Until a king cake cornered me into it.
I’m 100% Cajun. And I may have talked a little too enthusiastically about king cakes this Mardi Gras season.
Which somehow led to me being very politely cornered into actually making one.
So I said fine. Let’s do this.
I spent Saturday getting the kitchen set up. Deep cleaned everything. Bought new brass measuring cups because if I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it.
And then I dove in.
No YouTube tutorial marathon. Just me, the dough, and 30 years of deferred curiosity finally showing up at the kitchen counter.
Here’s what I didn’t expect:
The joy.
Not just “this is nice” joy. Full body, soul-deep, where have you been all my life joy.
The kneading. The rhythm of it. The way the dough responded under my hands.
The part where you let it rise for two hours and you wander off for a nap like you’ve earned it—because you absolutely have.
The kitchen smelling like something sacred.
And underneath all of it, this quiet, persistent thought:
This is what a reclaimed dream feels like.
Not dramatic. Not triumphant.
Just deeply, deliciously right.
I teach women to reclaim their dreams every single day.
And I just now realized I’ve been doing it myself—in ways I didn’t even recognize as dreams until they were already real.
The writing? Dream reclaimed.
The painting? Dream reclaimed.
Making money from home on my own terms? Dream reclaimed.
And now this—flour on my hands, king cake cooling on the counter, brass measuring cups gleaming in the kitchen light—
Dream. Reclaimed.
So here’s my question for you today:
What did you once say you’d love to do—and then set down and forgot about?
Not the big dramatic stuff necessarily.
Sometimes it’s the quiet things. The kneading of dough. The planting of a garden. The learning of a language. The picking up of a paintbrush.
What’s been waiting for you to come back to it?
Because here’s what I know now:
Dreams don’t expire.
They just wait.
Sometimes thirty years.
And when you finally come back to them, they welcome you like you never left.
If this hit you—if you just remembered something you set down thirty years ago and forgot about—here’s what you need to know:
Most women don’t even remember what their dreams are anymore.
Because they’ve been living everyone else’s life for so long, they can’t hear themselves beneath the noise.
That’s what my BREAKTHROUGH Guide is for.
Not to give you a new dream. To help you clear the clutter so you can hear what’s been waiting.
It helps you:
Identify what YOU actually want (vs. what you think you should want)
Recognize the patterns that keep you stuck (people-pleasing, waiting for permission, abandoning yourself)
Give yourself permission to say NO to what drains you and YES to what lights you up
Build trust with yourself so you can actually follow through
Reconnect with your soul so you can hear what matters beneath all the “shoulds”
That’s how you reclaim a dream.
Not by forcing it. By clearing the path so it can finally show up.
Right now, I’m offering 20% off annual subscriptions to The Daily RE-WIRE.
When you subscribe, you get:
The BREAKTHROUGH Guide (immediate access)
Daily essays about living like someone who trusts herself
Weekly live workshops every Tuesday at 7 PM EST
Full access to the archive
A community of women who stopped waiting for permission
This isn’t about adding more to your life.
It’s about clearing enough space to hear what’s been waiting all along.
The baking. The painting. The writing. The quiet dream you set down because everyone else needed you more.
It’s still there.
Your dream didn’t expire.
You just forgot to listen for it.
Come back.
—Monica
Finishing my breakfast I headed into my emails and came across this one and when I got through to the part Dreams don't expire, I began to tear up. A couple of teardrops and then a good cry. As my mind wandered no specifically named dream showed up...but I know there is more. This really hit home. Thank you.
Piecing together a dream (which I cant’t fully identify) seems like a snowball getting bigger and bigger. I decided to get back to drawing and sewing. First, I bought pencils, good paper. Then, I started looking at sewing patterns. I discovered they are not for me. Good to know. If I use a pattern, it will be my own. I recalled my interest in textures and purchased an encyclopedia of textiles. Reading that book is igniting my creativity. I’m on a slow road, enjoying every step of the way.