There is something incredibly vulnerable about wanting something badly.
Not just casually wanting it. Not thinking, “That would be nice someday.” I mean wanting something so deeply that the dream has lived inside you for years, maybe even since childhood.
Because the moment you say your dream out loud, it becomes real.
And once it is real, there is the possibility that it might not happen.
That is the part we often avoid.
We convince ourselves that we are waiting for the right time. We tell ourselves we need more experience, more money, more confidence, more knowledge, or a better plan. Sometimes those things are true. But sometimes, if we are honest, we are simply protecting ourselves from the vulnerability of trying.
Because what if we fail?
What if nobody comes?
What if people don’t like what we create?
What if we put our whole heart into something and it isn’t received the way we hoped?
There is a certain safety in keeping a dream tucked away inside of us. As long as we don’t truly try, we never have to know what might happen. We can continue telling ourselves, “Someday I will.”
But someday can quietly become years.
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be an artist. If you count doodling on school notebooks, then I have probably been creating since I was a child. Art has always been something I was drawn to, even when life took me in other directions. I would return to it here and there—picking up colored pencils, experimenting with paint, creating when inspiration struck—but for a long time, I never fully allowed myself to take the dream seriously.
I think part of me was afraid of what would happen if I did.
Calling yourself an artist feels different than simply making art.
Putting your work on a wall where other people can see it feels different than creating something in the privacy of your own home.
Hosting an art show feels even bigger.
It means saying, “This is something I made. This is a piece of me. I believe it is worthy of being seen.”
And that is vulnerable as hell.
My recent art show was something I had dreamed about doing since I was a child. Yet dreams have a funny way of growing up with us. What once felt simple can become complicated. As adults, we become more aware of rejection, criticism, comparison, and disappointment. We start asking ourselves whether we are talented enough, experienced enough, or worthy enough.
Somewhere along the way, we begin believing that we need permission.
We wait for someone to tell us we are good enough before we put ourselves out there.
But I am learning that sometimes the only permission you need is your own.
My art show was successful. People came. They celebrated with me. They purchased my art. They offered kind words and encouragement. I felt loved, supported, and overwhelmed by the generosity of my friends and community.
But the success of the show wasn’t the only thing that made the experience meaningful.
The real victory happened before anyone walked through the door.
The victory was deciding to do it.
It was choosing to take childhood dreams seriously.
It was allowing myself to be seen.
It was taking the risk of putting my work—and a very personal part of myself—out into the world.
Because vulnerability is not weakness. Vulnerability is courage in its most honest form.
It is saying, “This matters to me,” even though someone else may not understand.
It is trying even though you cannot guarantee the outcome.
It is believing that you are worth investing in, even when there is a chance you could be disappointed.
And I think that is something so many of us forget: you are worth the risk.
You are worth taking the chance on.
Your dreams are worth your effort.
Your happiness is worth the possibility of failure.
Too often, we are willing to invest time, energy, and belief into everyone else. We encourage our children to dream big. We tell our friends to go for it. We cheer on the people we love when they take chances.
But when it comes to ourselves, we hesitate.
What if we offered ourselves the same encouragement?
What if we stopped waiting until we felt completely ready?
What if we understood that confidence doesn’t always come before the leap? Sometimes confidence is what we gain because we leap.
My art show did not happen because I woke up one day feeling fearless. It happened because I was willing to move forward while still feeling nervous. I was willing to plan it, promote it, hang my artwork, and open the door even though there was no guarantee of how it would be received.
And standing there, surrounded by people who showed up to support me, I realized something important.
For years, I had been so focused on the risk of being vulnerable that I hadn’t fully considered the beauty waiting on the other side of it.
What if people show up?
What if they love it?
What if your dream creates a connection, you never expected?
What if taking a chance on yourself reminds you who you have always been?
We cannot experience the joy of a dream coming true if we refuse to risk the possibility of disappointment.
That doesn’t mean every dream will unfold exactly as we imagined. Some risks will end differently than we hoped. Some dreams will need to change shape. Some attempts will teach us more than they reward us.
But even then, you are still worth the risk.
You are worth discovering what you are capable of.
So, if there is something living quietly inside of you—an idea, a dream, a business, a creative passion, a new beginning—maybe this is your reminder to stop waiting for permission.
Be vulnerable enough to want it.
Brave enough to say it out loud.
Courageous enough to try.
Your dream may not be guaranteed.
But neither is the regret of never knowing what could have happened.
And one day, you might find yourself standing in the middle of a room filled with people, looking around at something you once only imagined, and realizing:
I almost didn’t let myself do this.
I’m so grateful I did.
Because sometimes making a dream come true begins with one simple, terrifying, beautiful decision:
Choosing to believe that you are worth the risk.
This was written by our contributing writer, Tiffani Morgan.
The painting used as the cover photo was painted by Tiffani Morgan.
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