We used to dream of being here
I remember being a kid, lying awake at night, wondering what my life would look like when I grew up.
What kind of job would I have? Where would I live? Would I ever find someone to share my life with?
Those questions feel like they belong to another lifetime now. But lately, I’ve been sitting with a realisation: I am living the life that kid was dreaming of.
Take my job, for example. I enjoy it, mostly. Sure, there are days I resent trading my hours for a paycheck, and the idea of making wealthy people wealthier doesn’t exactly light a fire in me. But if I’m being honest with myself, and that’s kind of the whole point of this, I am genuinely grateful for it. Especially right now, in this economy. It feeds my family. It gives me the breathing room to build something that actually matters to me, like The Tiny Wisdom.
Because I still remember being 22, freshly out of university, and completely lost. Adulthood had arrived, and with it came real responsibilities and real consequences. Everything felt overwhelming. I froze a lot. I quit things before they started, not because I didn’t care, but because I was terrified of getting it wrong.
That was eleven years ago. A lot has happened since.
I’ve worked and lived in different countries, something the 22-year-old me would have considered wildly out of reach. I’ve met people who changed me. Made friends, some for a season, some for life. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I found the love of my life. Without them, everything would feel a little emptier, a little colder.
Whenever life feels like shit, I remember that I used to pray for a life like this.
Because I think we often forget about it.
We complain about our jobs because the pay could be better or the work feels meaningless. But do you remember the relief you felt when you got that job? The way it felt like a door finally opening?
We scroll through other people’s lives and feel like ours is falling short. But the life we’re living right now, the routines, the small frustrations, the people waiting for us at home, this is the stuff someone younger was desperately hoping for.
Not the hard parts. But the life wrapped around them.
The fact that you have people to come home to. The fact that your problems are ones worth solving. The fact that you’re still here, still trying, still showing up.
We’re wired to keep moving forward, chasing the next milestone, the next goal, the next version of ourselves. And honestly, that drive is part of what gets us where we need to go. But somewhere in all that reaching, we forget to look down at the ground we’re already standing on. A place we once begged to reach.
So lately, when things feel heavy, I ask myself one question: Would the 22-year-old me be happy to be here?
And most of the time, the answer is yes.
Life isn’t perfect. It was never going to be. But it is full. And full is so much more than I thought I’d get.
If you’re somewhere in the middle right now, past where you started but not yet where you want to be, I hope this lands softly.
Someone out there is dreaming of the life you’re already living.
That someone might even be you, not too long ago.
You used to pray for times like this.
Don’t forget to notice them.
I hope you find this insightful. Remember:
It’s not going to be easy,
But it’s not impossible.
Your friend,
Brian.