Not Born with a Dream — But I Found One Along the Way

 Not Born with a Dream — But I Found One Along the Way

Image Credit: Photo by Cottonbro Studio on Pixels

Some people are born knowing exactly what they want.
I wasn’t one of them.

I come from a simple, grounded family with roots in Bihar, but I was born and raised in Punjab.
My parents had moved here when my siblings were just 3–4 years old, hoping for better opportunities, a better life. While I’ve never lived in Bihar, it still feels like a part of my story — a part of who I am. But Punjab is where I grew up, learned to speak, walk, fall, rise... and eventually, dream.

But I didn’t always have a dream.
In fact, I was the kind of child who didn’t know what they were good at. No particular hobby, no big aim — just quietly going with the flow.

Until one day, a simple moment at home changed everything.

We were watching TV, and my father looked at the screen where children — maybe just 5 or 6 years old — were dancing confidently on stage. Then he looked at me and said,
“Dekh unnu... 5 saal de bachhe nach rahe ne. Tu kuch kardi vi nahi.”

He didn’t mean it cruelly. But something about those words stayed with me. Maybe it was disappointment. Maybe motivation. Whatever it was — it touched a place in me I didn’t even know existed.

That evening, I didn’t cry. I didn’t complain.
I just quietly stood in front of a mirror and started moving. I had no training, no guidance — just music and the desire to try.

And that’s how it began.
Dancing wasn’t just a new activity for me. It slowly became a piece of my identity.

I fell in love with it — the expression, the freedom, the energy.
For the first time, I felt like, “Maybe this is what I was meant to do.”

It started as a response to a taunt, but it became my dream.
Or maybe it was my father's forgotten dream... that somehow found a home inside me.

🚧 The Dream That Faced the Wall

But like many dreams, mine hit the real world.

As I grew older and began expressing that I wanted to take dance seriously, I wasn’t met with support. I was met with concern.

“Is dance even a real career?”
“It’s risky.”
“How will you survive?”

Still, I tried.
I gave an audition for a small local show — and I cleared the first round. It felt like the start of something.

But life has its own way of testing you.
Before the second round, I got sick. I couldn’t attend.
Meanwhile, some participants who didn’t even clear auditions came with a dance group and got selected. Even the deserving ones like me were left behind.

That one opportunity — the one chance I thought could prove something — vanished. And with it, my courage.

My father said, “I gave you one chance. It didn’t work. Now focus on something serious.”

And just like that, I stopped dancing.

📘 A New Chapter

After 12th, I took admission in BBA — because it felt like a "safe" option. I also completed a basic computer course and a makeup course — not because I had a clear goal, but because I was trying to stay useful, skilled, prepared.

Now, the path ahead is UPSC.
My father believes this is the best future I can build — a government job, a respected position, stability.

So now I prepare. I study. I try to imagine myself in that life.

But somewhere inside, the dancer in me still lives. Quiet now — but alive.

💭 Why I Started This Blog

This blog is not just a hobby. It’s my voice.

It’s the place where I’ll write everything I feel —
things I couldn’t say out loud…
things I’ve buried for years…
and the small, big, confusing thoughts that live in my mind.

Here, I’ll write about:

• My dreams — both broken and new

• My struggles — both silent and loud

• My thoughts — both strong and sensitive

• And most of all — my truth

🌸 To Anyone Reading This…

Maybe you’ve also been told that your dream isn’t practical.
Maybe people told you to “be realistic.”
Maybe you were forced to quit something you loved.
Maybe you're also walking a path you didn’t choose — because it made others feel secure.

If yes, I want you to know you’re not alone.

Some of us aren’t born with dreams — we build them.
Sometimes slowly, painfully, but still beautifully.

This is not a perfect story. But it’s mine.
And if you’ve made it this far in reading — thank you. You are part of my journey now.

Let’s grow together. Let’s fall and rise together.
Let’s be dreamers again — even if it’s hard.

With all my heart,
Suhani 💛