Not Remembering Your Dreams Isn't a Failure. It's a Sign of Endurance.

Alma Thomas taught art for decades. At 69, she finally created her own. By 81, she made history. If you can't remember what you wanted, this is where we start.

Me at 70, holding a photo of me as a young girl on the beach. Dreaming.

Before the Dream Comes Back

If you read yesterday’s essay and felt something stir, but still can’t name what you want,
I want to start here.

Not remembering your dreams is not a failure of imagination.
It’s a sign of endurance.

When life has required you to be responsible, resilient, available, and steady for a very long time, the part of you that dreams doesn’t disappear.
It goes quiet.
Not because it’s gone. But because it learned it wasn’t the priority.

Dreaming requires safety. It requires space.
It requires a nervous system that isn’t braced for the next demand.

And for most women, that kind of safety hasn’t existed for decades.

There’s a reason I think often about Alma Thomas.

Alma was a devoted teacher of art in Washington, D.C. She raised her family, taught in public schools, and fulfilled all the usual community and church commitments. She was good at it. Dependable. Dedicated. Her life was organized around serving others.

But she never pursued her own dream of making art to show in fine art galleries.

Then she retired.

At the age of 69, her time finally became her own.

And that’s when the work poured out.

Bold, vibrant, abstract paintings inspired by her garden. Work that had been waiting quietly inside her for decades. By the time she was 81, Alma became the first woman of color to have a solo show at the Whitney Museum of American Art.

Not because she suddenly discovered talent late in life.
But because the conditions finally allowed her to answer a call that had been waiting patiently.

And because she chose to re-ignite her dreams.

Alma hadn’t planned the life she lived early on. Life stepped in. There were mouths to feed, a home to maintain, responsibilities to meet. But then came a different season.

Now it was her turn.
And she made the most of it.

Alma didn’t force a dream back into existence. She followed a quiet, insistent pull once there was enough steadiness, enough safety, enough space, enough time that was actually hers

That distinction matters.

So many women think they’ve lost something essential because they can’t remember what they once wanted. But what’s often happened instead is that the dreaming self stepped aside while life took precedence.

She’s not gone. She’s been waiting.

Waiting for safety.
Waiting for space.
Waiting for permission.

If you’re here thinking, I don’t even know where to begin, this is the beginning.

We don’t start by demanding clarity.
We don’t start by chasing purpose.
We don’t start by forcing dreams to reappear on command.

We start by creating enough safety for honesty to rise. It means getting the body out of survival mode long enough that it can stop censoring itself. Whan that happens we can hear our souls, our dreams calling.

For me, that looked very simple.

It started with two minutes of sitting. Just sitting. No agenda. No fixing. No managing. Two minutes where I wasn’t responsible for anyone or anything. For those two minutes I did a particular breathing pattern: 4 counts breath in, hold for 4 counts, release for 6 counts- and use the diaphram.

At first, nothing happened. My mind raced. My body stayed braced. Sometimes it stayed two minutes. Sometimes it stretched. I didn’t manage it.

And eventually, in the quiet, something began whispering. Not in words. In nudges.

Paint.Write. Stop managing your life like it’s someone else’s emergency.

I know this because I lived it.

What began as an attempt to sell my art slowly became something else entirely. It became a daily painting practice. Then a writing practice. Then a Substack. Then thousands of readers. Then, unexpectedly, a place on the global Bestsellers list.

Not because I had a plan. Because I created enough safety for my soul to speak, and then I followed what it said. That step—learning to trust yourself—is its own conversation, and I’ll be writing about it next.

Every step reshaped me. Not all at once. Not dramatically. But cumulatively.

Reinvention didn’t arrive as a lightning bolt. It arrived as aggregation.
As trust built slowly in my own voice, my body, my timing.

If you feel drawn to begin gently, I do have a small collection of guides I’ve created over time. They aren’t programs. They don’t promise outcomes. They’re simply my lived experience presented in a PDF format for women who are starting to listen again. All of them can be found here: Monica’s Guides . Most of my readers begin with the “ 5 THINGS Not To Do” and often pare it with “Obligation Detox”

If and when it feels right, you’ll find them waiting. No urgency. No fixing. Just support.

You’re not behind.
You’re not late.
You’re right on time for this part.

For the Girl You Used to Be

That girl on the beach.
The one who had dreams before life required her to be responsible for everyone else.

She’s still there.

And starting in January, I’m writing a full series about how women find her again. Not through manifestation. Not vision boards. Not quick fixes.

Real conversations about
• creating safety so the dreaming self can return
• what comes before the dream, and why it matters
• following quiet whispers that don’t make logical sense
• rebuilding a life that is finally your own

If this speaks to you, you’re welcome to join us.

Annual subscriptions are $64 through December 31. After that, the price returns to $80.
You’ll receive the complete January series and everything I write throughout 2025.

No urgency. Just timing.