I Had a Dream

I remember the moment when I first said it out loud:

“One day, I will become the CEO of this company.”

I was young, ambitious, and absolutely convinced that this was my dream.

Since I first joined the workforce, and the company where I began my career, that vision stayed with me. I was always very open about my ambition. And I have to admit — I was pretty damn good at pursuing it.

Every position I took brought me one step closer to that dream. Until one day I realised that this dream actually had a chance of becoming reality.

It was no longer the aspiration of an ambitious 22-year-old woman. It had become a real possibility for a 40-year-old professional who had already reached one of the most senior roles in the company, with perhaps another 15–20 years ahead.

And yet, the irony was this: The closer I came to my dream, the less it felt like mine.

Something was missing. Deep inside, I felt hollow.

Things that once brought me joy had become mere substitutes for something more meaningful. Traveling was no longer exciting. The job itself no longer aligned with who I was or what I believed in.

My own spark had quietly begun to dim. And along with it, my sense of direction — and the deeper question of what the purpose of my life really was. That was the moment when deep reflection began. A moment when I started challenging not only my dream, but also how I wanted the next forty years of my life to look.

During this journey of self-reflection, I realised something even more confronting. The dream I had been chasing was not actually my dream. It was the dream of my parents — their vision of what a successful and happy life should look like. All those years climbing the corporate ladder, I made them incredibly proud. They celebrated every achievement, every promotion, every milestone. And in many ways, this had been my way of deserving their love.

This journey of self-reflection was not easy.

I faced fear. Resistance. Doubt — from within myself, from my family, and even from some of my friends.

The image I had carefully built over twenty years was powerful. Attractive. In many ways, perfect to the outside world. Admitting — first to myself, and then to everyone else — that it was making me unhappy felt almost impossible. And to this day I’m not sure what was harder: to admit it to myself, or to admit it to the world.

To face the questions.

The disappointment on my family’s faces.

The surprise of friends and colleagues.

The judgment and opinions of all those people whose recognition I had relied on to validate my own self-worth.

This realisation shook my world. The choice in front of me felt almost impossible.

And yet, deep down, I knew what had to be done. The ultimate truth was that the person I was becoming — or perhaps the person I had always been — was no longer compatible with the corporate world.

The price I was paying for what looked like success was no longer worth the reward.

I had to take ownership of my life. My choices. My future.

And so began a new chapter. A chapter of self-discovery. Of understanding who I really am. What my dreams truly are. And who I want to become.

…to be continued…