An honest journey through disappointment, loneliness and hope – and what happens when we don't give up on our dreams, even if it costs more than we thought.
Following a dream is not just passion and drive. It is also doubt, silence, finances, body, resistance – and the feeling of being alone with something that means everything. Lately I have felt a downturn. I have been sick, my energy has been low and my finances have been strained. What I thought would be a step forward – starting private lessons with my trainer – I had to postpone because I have not been able to get this through Spleis. Now I am trying again, and hope to raise 6500 NOK to start the process with Jazzy and complete the choreography. But this post is about more than money.
It's about what it feels like to face adversity – and what happens inside us when we try so hard, but still encounter silence, stoppage or disappointment.
Disappointment often comes when what we hope will happen doesn't happen.
I had hoped for more response. That more people would see what I was going through and support me. When that doesn't happen, it hurts. Not because I think anyone owes me anything, or expects them to – but because I've invested myself emotionally. It's important to understand that disappointment is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign that something matters. That I actually care. If I hadn't believed in the dream, I wouldn't have been disappointed. So I try to face that feeling with respect – instead of being ashamed of it. Disappointment can also be a kind of loss. Not just of what we wanted, but of a small piece of hope. And hope is an important driving force. When it's gone, we have to remind ourselves that we can still build it back up – little by little.
Have you also experienced disappointment when something you care about doesn't happen?
Are you being met the way you hoped?
I have felt loneliness in this process. The kind Loneliness that is not about always being alone physically, but about feeling that what matters to me is not seen or shared. We humans are pack animals. We are made to be mirrored, recognized and supported. When we don't get that, the brain interprets it as danger. It shouts: "You are alone. No one cares." And then comes restlessness, sadness - and in my case, a heavy silence. Some of this is connected to old patterns. The feeling of loneliness is not a new feeling for me, but it doesn't show up as often as before. But I notice that it is active now, and it feels a little painful. I know it is my responsibility to work with this feeling, and I do
it – but it is also completely normal to be triggered. It is part of the process
growing. And yes, it hurts extra when it's the closest people who are
silent. Not because I expect great words or actions, but because it is
It is precisely their silence that is most noticeable.
I don't really want to expect anything from anyone – I know everyone has their own. But when the people you hope to be closest to are the most silent, you are left extra alone with something that means everything. Then it's also about learning to accept that support doesn't always come where you want it – and to let it go.
Have you ever felt alone in the middle of something that means everything to you?
It's not easy, and it's still something I'm working on. But I try to approach it with understanding, both for others and for myself.
When finances are tight, when my body is failing, and when I can't manages to get things started that should have been started a long time ago, another feeling creeps in: the fear. The fear that it won't work. The fear of that I have to give up the dream. Fear is the body's way of protecting us. It wants us back to safety, to predictability. But dreams don't live in safety and predictability – they live in risk, vulnerability and commitment. So I work on meeting my fear as a companion, not an enemy. I can listen – but I don't have to let it rule.
Sometimes it's not the world out there that's holding me back – but the voice inside me. The one who whispers: “You are too old.” “You should have been
anymore.” “You should just give up” This inner critic can be stronger than any external resistance. It discourages me, making me doubt whether I can even do this. But I have begun to recognize it for what it is: an old pattern, created by past experiences, that is trying to protect me – but in a way that holds me back. Instead of fighting it, I try to meet it with curiosity. I ask: “What do you need?” And then I remind myself of the truth: I'm not late. I'm on my way. And I'm doing this because it matters.
Do you also have an inner voice that doubts?
What does it say – and what would you say to a friend who was thinking the same thing?
I have been putting off contacting sponsors, even though I know it is important. I have put off things that could have helped me moving forward. And with that comes self-criticism: “Why don’t I just do what I know I have to?”
But procrastination is rarely about laziness. It's often about protection from discomfort. If something feels overwhelming, scary or if we fear rejection, our brain chooses the safe option – procrastination.
It says: "We'll do it later – when we feel ready."
The problem is that the “get through the day” rarely comes. SAnd what I have to do is act before I feel ready. One small step. One message. One contact.
I remind myself that I don't have to fix everything – just do one thing.
What do you usually do when you know what you should do – but can't seem to get started?
I have been working on blockages in the pelvic area – a place that is about security, stability and vitality. Now I have managed to do the splits again. It may sound banal, but for me it is huge. Because when the body opens, the mind also opens. This reminds me of something important: emotions live in the body. If I take care of it, listen to it, and move it – I get something back mentally too. And when I am in motion, I remember who I am – and where I am going. And I promise that I will do everything I can to carry it out even if emotions and finances are getting in the way right now.
I try to meet myself with warmth – not judgment. I work on:
I also know that this is min dream – not everyone's. But I've said it from the very beginning: I can't do this alone. I just want to share the journey, and maybe awaken something recognizable in others. We are not made to stand alone.
I don't have my family around, and even though I have people I know at training and in the dance community, I'm home alone a lot. I don't have a partner to share my thoughts and worries with. And it's in these spaces between human encounters that loneliness finds a place. Not always loudly - but always noticeable. I know that many people have their own struggles, and that life is demanding for many right now. Maybe that's why the support I actually get feels extra valuable - because it comes from a genuine place, not because someone feels they have to.
Maybe you also recognize some of this? Maybe you have
postponed something important, felt alone, or were afraid that you wouldn't make it
goal? Then I hope this post can give you something: insight, understanding, or
just a little reminder that we are not alone. You don't have to go the whole way alone. We don't have to be strong all the time. We are triggered because we carry something from before. But that doesn't mean we are broken. It just means we are human beings trying. You are not alone. Neither am I, I know it deep down!
Thank you for going a little off the beaten path with me.
Amelia
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