The bones of this piece come from an email sent out to my newsletter subscribers this April. The concept I developed of “Legacies of Abandoned Dreams” has really stuck with me, so I wanted to expand and edit the story that led to its creation, and to share the concept and exercise publicly!

Today’s post includes a concept and a free exercise I’m excited to share. I’ve found it to be really helpful to use when plans change, and when you decide to let go of a dream. 

But first, I want to tell you a little story of how I came to this idea.

I don’t talk a lot about the behind-the-scenes of my business, outside of the quarterly video I offer to my sustaining supporters, but I think this story might be useful across a number of contexts, especially for those who feel whiplash when a vision for the future shifts, and maybe also especially for my fellow autistic folks who feel an extra layer of disruption when we think we’re following someone’s advice and go through that emotional wave of “oh fuck, I actually misunderstood.”

Story: You Can’t Rush the Spiral

In April of 2021, I found myself absolutely buzzing with sudden energy as the New Moon arrived. I had been going through a lot of healing, transformation, and cocoon time with my business over the winter, which I could feel was important for me. But I also was really feeling the need to just launch something, to move from spending so much time sitting with language and values and vision to actually having a more tangible reflection of my business in the world.

The more time I spent with vision, the more the vision would pivot. The more time I spent in my mind, the more my mind would come up with new stories and theories and things I needed to re-work… and in the meantime, I wasn’t testing any of it. 

I’m a 1/3 profile in the Human Design system, which means that I love to investigate and dig deep and understand, but I also need to actually experiment, try things out, throw spaghetti at the wall! 

My mind can analyze theoreticals forever, argue both sides—and while that might be fun, it was keeping my business in a prolonged infancy, where I was constantly learning but never actually giving folks an opportunity to respond to my work. 

So when the Aries New Moon arrived, with all its cardinal fire energy of just start something, I embraced it. I went from thinking to doing. I went flying through the first two weeks of the month: designing an entire course and most of its marketing materials, recording over six hours of audio content, creating an 85-page workbook, designing and writing and hand-coding a sales page, writing a marketing plan… and then soon before the planned launch, I asked for some “quick feedback.”

An Attempt to Follow a Logical Path

With all the go-go-go energy I was feeling, thinking I could just power through to a Full Moon launch and do the thing in a two-week cycle, I was not ready to have the thing I was building actually challenged! 

In retrospect, I can see how a story had emerged in that winter cocoon, based on my commitment to work with a particular business mentor who emphasizes sustainability in business through a model focused on developing a single signature offer. 

Going through the modules she provided to learn about ideal clients, messaging, marketing, and offer flow had me all ready to envision and plan a business strategically. I was committed to an intuitive, spirit-led business, but I wanted my intuition to at least give me a sense of my business’s big picture, the shape and structure of this living entity that I could design everything else from. 

I’d heard so many entrepreneurs and advisors laugh about how they used to do things more experimentally, used to dream of having a menu of options to encompass all their different passions, and then learned that this model was impossible to sell.

I viewed that advice as an important guardrail: yes, follow your intuition, but give it a container first. Menus of ways to work with you are confusing, practically evil. Your ADHD will try to tug you in that direction: don’t let it!

So I thought I was being a responsible business owner through creating a clear, straightforward model to work within. 

At that time I actually tried to pull some of my biggest passions out of my business, thinking I was learning an important lesson about what people actually want, how to cordon off the way you make money from your personal spiritual practice, and the importance of being realistic and not rigid. 

Spoiler alert: I’ve since realized that the “single offer” thing, or even a clear linear flow of a few key offers, is a dealbreaker for me. It’s not how my energy works. It’s not how I show up sparkly and available for my clients. It doesn’t allow me to follow my passion and my drive, my Mars-in-Aries “ooh! What about this?” impulses. It works well for a lot of people—but not for me. 

The way I draw people into my orbit, the way I resource myself, is often paradoxical. It doesn’t follow logical paths at all. It requires a lot of trust in the universe to send me opportunities that don’t make sense. 

By all accounts, my methods should fail. Logically, I’m going to run out of money in less than a year and either come crawling back to a “regular job” or give up and launch a business with the recommended model and then cheerfully declare to others what an idiot I was and how I wish I’d realized it earlier.

But logic is not my most trusted method for navigating the world.

I’ve made it now to a point where I just fucking embrace that, and I’ve been building evidence that my paradoxical way of working… works. Through observational practice, I’ve learned how my energy works in surprising ways. I’ve even developed an astrology offering that’s specifically designed to help folks who are stuck in this way build confidence and trust in doing the unexpected, through a neuroemergent lens!

I only know that with the benefit of hindsight, though. Back in April, I still really wanted shit to make sense. 

So I put on the guardrails and had a “lightbulb moment,” deciding that supportive systems would be the “real” focus for my business. I would focus on melding the spiritual lessons I’d learned with systems expertise and productivity nerdery, which had an obvious market and people already asking for my advice. I’d focus on the bridge between being a serious fucking nerd who likes spreadsheets and coming to embrace intuition. 

Besides, I love a good combination of unexpected things. Productivity + tarot? Who’s ever heard of that?

So I wrote a new story of self in my head: I’d be the person you go to for sprit + systems. I’d start out with a smart, marketable, entry-level offer, but people would quickly see how I was doing things differently and get excited. My client list would be small but passionate. A lot of people wouldn’t be able to afford me, but those folks would be served by all the free content I’d be putting out. My mentor was super psyched about this idea, and affirmed the story I was building.

I let intuition lead me through a few ways to pivot, and landed on a self-paced audio course called (Un)productive, the offer that I quickly developed in those waxing moon weeks in April.

I practically thought the thing would sell itself! After all, if I’d seen someone advertising a course around healing from productivity culture and capitalist bullshit, using tarot and astrology as teaching modes, that offered a more spiritually-aligned frame for productivity nerds to apply to any system they might use rather than hawking yet another “this is the perfect productivity tool for ADHD!” promise, I would’ve been in immediate “take my money!!!” mode. 

By the time I was in creation mode for (Un)productive, this business vision had already quickly bloomed out into a whole suite of potential offerings. The course would be an easy sell, I decided, to at least twenty of so people, but maybe even hundreds. The launch price that felt intuitively right to me was “so affordable” based on what other folks were doing. 

I’d get it the course out as an easy start, then focus on further offerings: sustainable 1-on-1 coaching, group programs, maybe even a few ideas that were less “sprit” focused, but a little more “businessy” and easy to sell, to subsidize the stuff I was more passionate about. It fit in with the logic of successful spiritual businesses and advisors. 

I now had a story that was backed by logic, still rooted in intuition in key places, and included a clear, proveable trajectory to the future I wanted to build for myself.

When Logic Falls Flat On Its Face (But Teaches You a Lesson)

You can probably already see how this story I was building was rooted in need and fear.

I need to earn an income, ultimately, that will meet my basic needs. I’m extremely fortunate in that my decade of accepting burnout conditions in the working world, combined with a spoonful of racial and educational privilege, allowed me to save up enough to take a few years to build this business. But I’d been in business for a year and while I’d actually hit some important milestones, they were hard to see in the context of the narratives I was receiving in the form of business advice. I was only earning $100-$200 a month, heavily taxed, and pouring a ton of time and energy into learning, planning, and content reaction. So I clearly needed some kind of catalyst to get myself closer to long-term sustainability.  

As a neurodivergent person, I was also seeing how my dreams and my capacity did not translate to those of my mentors. 

Things other people described as a “quick task” took my autistic brain hours to understand and execute. I was struggling, under the surface, with some ADHD-related stuckness and denial about that stuckness, but also with the fact I kept trying to devise a soul-aligned business model and realizing that it wasn’t sellable, that the message didn’t translate for potential customers. So fear was building not only financially, but around the possibility that it wouldn’t be as easy or fulfilling as I thought to do what others before me had done.

And at the same time, my dealbreakers in service of soul already felt totally risky! 

It was appealing to solve the problem with a little backsliding towards a focus that felt more sellable but also more familiar, if I could justify it in soul-aligned terms: maybe the universe had wanted me to work with folks who have more resources all along! Maybe I could do some data consulting, if it was for spiritual businesses! Maybe all the steps I had been struggling to follow would be quicker and easier for me if the content of my work was more familiar. Maybe the toughness of my own healing wasn’t meant to be blended in with the toughness of business.

The thing is, there was nothing logically wrong with the dream as I formulated it in April—even from a soul-guided, intuitive, spiritual perspective. It totally could have been “the thing.” I wasn’t deluded, or acting out of integrity, in pursuing it. This was a lesson I needed to learn.

We can’t learn life lessons by reading about them in a book, after all. We have to have personal, specific experience. And that’s part of why trying to predict the future, and envision a step-by-step process towards an outcome, may be one way to start moving but isn’t likely to hold up to testing.

My mentor wasn’t doing anything wrong by encouraging my new direction. It was a direction that could make sense in the context of my talents, values, and needs. She actually encouraged my rebelliousness in a beautiful way! The idea of a self-paced course was very different from her own model, and I came up with it through honoring my own energy, feeling like I couldn’t sustain the consistent energy to do a live six-month or year-long cohort-style program. And I’d never “really” marketed an offering before, so it’s entirely possible that all I needed was to try it, and everything would go swimmingly.

In other words, my dream was an important experiment. I needed to attempt to play out that story, to see if it was possible. It was one possible way things might have worked out.

I even knew at that time that my focus would likely pivot as my business grew. After all, I was literally recording content for (Un)productive that focused on concepts like spiral time, setting intentions rather than set goals, and honoring your own rhythms and cycles. My work has always referenced the importance of not relying on a single story, or on a linear view of growth, of “this is it! This is the one! This will work!”

And yet, the brain still attaches. That’s what the brain does.

It’s one thing to accept that things will shift gradually and naturally, and another to experience what feels like a huge and all-encompassing setback. While I was ready to move through a spiralic process at one level, I still had expectation and attachment to the story of this “good start,” to this being at least more successful than anything else I’d ever done.

Processing the Wake-Up Call (with Autistic Feelings)

So in April I told my mentor about my plan for a quick, no-frills launch, and she gave me a big thumbs up. I went through the zoomy energy of that two-week creation period, asked for feedback, and expected to receive a few minor copy edits to my sales page. 

Instead, I experienced quite an emotional shock when she not only gave me a ton of sales page feedback, but also told me that I needed to first validate the offer.

Validate the offer? What? I thought I was validating the offer! Wasn’t that the whole point of the entry offer, the quick sell, the “just get it out” push? 

Until that moment I’d been nothing but feeling lit up and sparkly about the course, where I’d synthesized so many things I’d learned over the years. Identifying internalized messages coming from capitalist hustle culture! Prioritizing rest and self-care! A different way of relating to time and energy! Disability justice ideas around capacity and spoons and lessons from my experience of chronic fatigue! Neurodivergent brain science! Teaching through tarot archetypes! 

I’d combined ten years of productivity and systems expertise with five years’ personal experience in the healing journey that led me to self-trust as a core principle, which made me feel like a legit expert. I wanted to serve neurodivergent folks and burnt-out gifted kids who were feeling guilt and shame around productivity, despite nerding out over all the new systems and tools, and help them to heal from productivity culture without abandoning truly supportive systems. 

It felt so right that it had all poured out of my in two weeks, a course I thought would last 90 minutes and ended up being a totally comprehensive experience with 7+ hours of audio, fully transcripted, and a rich workbook full of the kinds of exercises folks had loved from me in the past. 

In other words, this course was gonna be rad as fuck, and I was so excited to share it. It felt like my magnum opus, like a catalyst point in my business.

….but I hadn’t validated it, apparently.

What the hell did that mean?

My mentor explained, and I guess I’d missed at some point in her teachings, that I wasn’t actually supposed to create anything before validating an offer (and ideally actually selling it). While a downloadable course meant I couldn’t sell before creating the content, I still was relying too much on my own beliefs about what people would buy. And so her advice was to go back to the drawing board and to simply ask my audience if they’d buy such a thing, and what they might want from it.

I listened to this advice and my body started to wilt with hurt, confusion, and exhaustion.

I felt crushed as fuck. 

My brain had plenty of things to say about this, of course. “Are you fucking kidding me? Look at all the effort I just put it in!” “Ask someone if they’re going to buy something before you have something to sell? That’s just going to turn my audience off. Neurodivergent folks are going to hate that method.” “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Wait, did you tell me this before? Was I just supposed to know?”

I was defensive and self-protective, also suddenly spiraling into autistic panic and despair. Yet again I’d completely misunderstood all the advice I’d been given, worked my ass off in the “wrong” direction, was going to have to work 10x as hard to fix it. The comfort of the fixed timeline, of knowing the end was near, was also completely smashed.

I was mad at the neurotypical world and terrified I wasn’t cut out for business after all. Or, at the very least, maybe this dream of entrepreneurship as a way to live according to my own rhythms and cycles was an illusion, and business might actually just be 90% marketing and pain. Maybe I’d have to either destroy my spirit following the advice, or destroy my body again with a 9-to-5 job, making much of the transformative healing I’d been doing a somewhat moot exercise. 

Fortunately, though, I was able to rely on my practices of emotional tending and intuitive care in that moment. I talked things out with my coach, Katy, who is amazing at helping me work through neurodivergent guilt and shame. I acknowledged my fear but also decided I wasn’t willing to believe that self-destruction was inevitable. I decided that I was willing to take the feedback, but not power through two days of massive revisions to my sales page, plus all the email copy I had to write. 

With this wrench in the works, my body was screaming for a break.

Letting the Dream Transform

So… I took the break. I listened to the wisdom I was teaching. 

The universe always makes space for you to deepen the lessons you’re teaching, and this was definitely one of those moments. Even though it was highly inconvenient, didn’t follow my vision of steady growth, and meant that the massive amount of work I’d just pushed through would not result in any immediate visibility, income, or business growth… I paused. I let it go.

I spent the waning moon phase licking my wounds. And then I had a massive experience of soul expansion through eclipse season, where I was able to see how following advice wasn’t working for me. I recommitted, I came to my mentor with a new list of boundaries, I almost let her go entirely.  

But she surprised me, and so we went through another cycle together, one that led to the launch of this blog, to big changes in my energy use, and ultimately to the launch of (Un)productive at the end of July. 

And yet, that still wasn’t “it.” 

In fact, while the extra time allowed me to further develop the course into something I’m truly proud of, a course aligned with the original vision, the context also changed. Adding a few months onto the timeline, accepting my intuitive call each time it told me to slow down, allowed for further evolution under the surface.

By July I’d actually let go of the vision of my “thing” being this intersection of spirit + systems, although that’s certainly something that informs my work. I was no longer seeing (Un)productive as a launching point, but as a one-off or even a closing chapter. My final word, at least for now, on the topic of productivity.

I’d gone through a summer of both both stagnancy in terms of visibility growth and a few really amazing 1-on-1 sessions that reminded me how much I loved working with people 1-on-1, how such of my genius is around hearing what folks are feeling and thinking and offering gentle but transformative pivots in perspective, asking thought-provoking questions that allow someone to find their own answer.

I started getting excited about yet another “signature offer,” this time a 1-on-1 package called “Diverge and Emerge,” that would allow me to work with folks for at least a few months at a time. “The plan” became selling at least ten copies of (Un)productive (a number I viewed as conservative), getting buzz going before I raised price after a few months, and then focusing on encouraging folks who loved (Un)productive to sign up for the package. 

I ran the numbers, and if I could make it work, I might even have $10K in income this year, and thus the proof I’d longed for that this work might be heading on a path towards sustainability. Wow. That felt good. 

Following the Spiral of the Dream Through All Its Layers

Well, as you might’ve guessed, that story didn’t last either!

As with all these mental stories I kept generating, it didn’t quite survive under pressure. By the time I got to launch time, I was exhausted again. This time I did manage to do it, and write a few emails to sell the course, but following my intuition had actually backed that timeline up against another sales period for a collaboration, and I just kind of ran out of steam. 

I gave up. 

When the few emails I sent, plus a week or two of social media, only resulted in a couple of sales, I didn’t tweak the marketing or show up even bigger. I put it down again, and with it the dream of a “proof of concept,” a big surge of visibility and paying clients at the end of this year. 

Beautifully, though, that’s part of what gave me space for another unfurling, another experience of expansion. 

I let go of that mentor, but I also let go of business advice, period. I set a limit with myself that in the future I’ll only enter into a mentoring relationship with another neurodivergent person, because there’s no reason for me to struggle through attempting communication in a way that doesn’t work for me, with someone who doesn’t understand my energy. There’s so much extra effort required to filter advice that works for neurotypical folks, and it’s not worth the cost.

I also came to some hard realizations about my own energy, time, and relationship to effort. I changed my relationship to routines, and to time, yet again.

And I realized how much I fucking hated relegating tarot and astrology (and now human design) readings to something that “I love but isn’t sustainable.” Trying to speak to a more general audience, and thinking of nerding out about the specifics of theory and practice in these disciplines as a “fun only” activity that shouldn’t take place on public platforms, just to achieve “brand clarity,” was not going to work for me. 

So I listened to my own damn advice for another turn of the spiral, another up-level. I made changes in my day-to-day practice. And this August and September, I’ve noticed huge energetic shifts in myself and how I’m showing up. 

I’ve pretty much said “fuck it” to planning, in a lot of ways. I’m actually following my sacral response, and my body-based intuitive wisdom, at another level of depth. I’m allowing those paradoxes to be, and letting go of “marketing campaigns.” If I feel called to write some emails about a thing I’m doing, great. I will. If I don’t, I won’t. I don’t feel a need to understand my business, or its big picture. I’ve decided that it’s okay to start from the details and the immediate question of what feels present right at this moment. 

Believe it or not, with these changes about 70% of my overthinking has vanished into thin air. Paradoxically, without a framework or a plan or a system, I’m doing things that matter. 

I’m (mostly) responding to emails. I’m writing good shit. I’m doing readings. I’m making space for pop-up offers, for much more deeply discounted launch prices, and for other ways to do the 1-on-1 work I love, because I’ve learned through experience that talking about how great I am (ha, ha) isn’t actually the thing that calls people to me. It’s working with me. 

My clients are often neurodivergent, and drawn to opportunities that feel “niche” and help them to feel seen in their special interests. The offer that draws one client will feel “meh” to the next. And so yeah, I’ve got a “menu” of ways to work with me. I might never have a signature offer. 

I’m cool with that.

I also expect that even when the discounts are deep and the work is what I’m called to, some stuff won’t land. There will be more launches to “crickets.” And that’s okay, because I’m not pouring all of myself into something in advance. I’m not doing really painful marketing, and trying to force myself to “just do it” through an open will center, in Human Design terms. I’m also not trying to understand the big picture of my business anymore, because I never will. It’s just not how my brain works. But that does have its own gifts, allowing me to follow calls in the moment to do weird, specific shit that might not make sense or be predictably popular.

I trust that if I launch a thing, I needed to launch it for some reason, even if that reason wasn’t that it was going to “work.” But if it’s just my mind telling me to do it, that’s a sign that I need to do some self-tending work, not change my strategy. 

My current “plan,” such as it is, is to pick myself up, dust myself off, and get back to selling (Un)productive in January. But we’ll see! Maybe I won’t. If you’re interested in the course, it’s always going to be there, and available, but I trust that if folks need the content it contains and they need my active involvement to find it, the universe will let me know. It’ll send me something to respond to. 

A Gentler Perspective on Transforming Dreams

The universe (or Spirit, or God, or divine, or nature) doesn’t play tricks on you. You didn’t fuck something up because you didn’t logic out the right strategy. Following my intuition and my sacral response isn’t about some kind of extreme trust fall where I have to prove myself to divine to “deserve” an income, nor can I fuck it up if I’m not sufficiently committed. 

That’s all capitalist bullshit narrative, and we’ve all got it internalized, and that’s okay. We can tend to that. We don’t have to operate from it. 

I’m personally moving into another, deeper layer of self-trust, which I love for myself, as it’s the core of my service to others but also the core of my own life and my healing journey. I’m grateful for all the lessons I’ve learned through this experience, and doubtless will continue to learn!

Dreams need time and space to grow and expand.

If I hadn’t gone through all these iterations of a dream, I’d have missed some important lessons. I wouldn’t have had the chance to attempt astrological timing, to keep thinking that there was a magical time for the launch and then realizing that I was telling a brain-story around that timing. I wouldn’t have learned about moon cycles and my energy and how that burst during the waxing moon doesn’t necessarily need to be fully resolved in a single cycle. I wouldn’t have had the chance to experience disappointment, and loss, and confusion, all of which equips me as a service-provider and as a person. I might’ve gotten the proof I wanted, and then felt crushed later on when the story ruptured.

The dreams we release, the dreams that transform into something new, are powerful.

Exercise: The Legacies of Abandoned Dreams

Back in April, in that waning moon moment of contraction and pause and emotional processing, I came up with this concept of the “legacies of abandoned dreams.” 

We all carry around loads (get it? yes that’s a terrible joke, no I don’t care) of previous dream-baggage, and I needed some kind of ritual to process that baggage, to recognize what a particular version of a dream has taught me, and to release the dream itself.

When we think experience is linear, every released dream is a failure. “I got the vision wrong,” we might tell ourselves. “I told the wrong story.”

There are no wrong stories.

Though the restless churning of our minds to conceptualize and understand the universe, to come up with a framework or belief in what’s going to happen, isn’t always helpful, a working vision certainly can be! 

Having a narrative of what’s coming, or where we are, helps us to situate ourselves. It’s a useful tool in the present moment, even if it’s not ultimately the story of what does happen. After all, we can only tell a story of what happened after it already has, and even then the story is colored by where we are at the time we tell it!

So rather than investing in trying to get the story right, in a kind of perfectionism, let’s ask whether the story serves. Often, it does, even if we don’t consciously know what it’s serving.

I see dreams, stories, and visions as the color around an intention. An intention is a beacon that gives us a present direction in which to move. It shifts as we get new information, as we have experiences. And that’s natural and normal. 

The beacon gets us moving, but the path is established as we walk it.

Recognizing the legacies of the beacons we’re no longer headed towards is a powerful practice because it allows us to feel more comfortable at the point of releasing a dream, less defeated by our shifting plans and goals. Knowing that dreams can serve a purpose other than simple fulfillment keeps us from being attached to a single narrative for ourselves and our projects.

You can play with this exercise as a ritual for recognition of the legacies of any of your previous dreams. They might be small, like releasing a course on a particular date. They might also be much bigger, like a long-pursued career or an idea of what family looks like for you. I invite you to try it out, and of course to consider working with me if you need further support!

Some Examples for Inspiration

To get your creativity flowing, here’s an example from each of my own lists for each category:

• stepping stones: My dream of being able to make art for an oracle deck led me to understand a lot more about digital art and ultimately decide that illustrating my own deck isn’t for me. It shifted to a different dream of building up a business that can sustain hiring an artist to collaborate with on a deck (also, incidentally, a great way to practice my value of interdependence!)
• served the me of the moment: My dream of going to a big-name university in a far-off place like New York or California turned out not to be financially or academically realistic, but that dreaming infused some excitement back into my teenaged academic career and gave me a reason to commit myself to school at a point where my grades were pretty lackluster! Ultimately, I didn’t even apply to those dream schools, but I did boost my grades enough to get a scholarship to a “meh” school six hours away that allowed for a little exploration without going into debt.
• led to a relationship: My dream of being a prolific public speaker and writer required a little more hustle than I could muster while working full-time, but some of the folks l met through speaking or teaching gigs remain my dearest friends, as well as several of my romantic partners!
• led to skills or talents: My dream of spending my adult life abroad, while it didn’t end up matching my adult needs and values, pushed me to study many different languages as well as international human rights, and ultimately pulled me back to understanding injustice at home. Having a more expansive perspective also helped me to see possibilities to describe my own experience, and to find my gender identity. 
• helped me shift perspective: In pursuing my dream of having a house full of books as an adult, my perspective gradually changed over time as I realized that dream was more about having a space that visually represented my interests than about reading. As I healed some of my “stuff” around performance and being legible to others, I let most of my books go, which made it much easier to move when I fell in love with and wanted to be closer to a couple of people who live across the country! (And, funnily enough, I read much more now.)
• taught me something about myself: My dream of being a chief of staff or similar high-level-but-not-top role helped me to clarify what I did and didn’t like about my career. I loved the 1-on-1 work of management, especially when I felt like I was serving the human not just the role, and I loved being able to make my team’s lives easier and influence both what we worked on and the overall organizational (and DEI) culture, but I hated organizational politics and the constraints of sometimes-intransigent top leadership. Those lessons were invaluable in helping me to realize that entrepreneurship might actually be the path for me, and that I’m passionate about 1-on-1 intuitive support!
• let me learn about the reality: My dream of having a policy career didn’t lead to a policy job, given the state of the economy in 2009! But it led me to help out with policy work wherever there was an opportunity in my first two non-profit jobs, and realize that the reality of doing policy work in non-profits was much more relational and less “researchy” than I’d imagined. Instead of continuing to pursue such a role, I continued in tech and operations, which was better suited to my energy.

I hope this idea of the “legacies of abandoned dreams” and the exercise serves you! If you enjoy longform pieces like this, and find value in having them freely available to anyone who needs them, I’d love to invite you to support my work, as and in the amount that you’re able. 

Rather than writing a paid newsletter or offering tier-based perks, I use this model to request support and keep my business sustainable in a way that also encourages folks without resources to benefit. Sharing this post via the social links below or letting a friend know about my work is also a tremendous help to me!