Do you ever spend an entire day on the couch, watching movies, and eating not-so-healthy foods? And then at the end of those days, after too much of a good thing, you feel a bit restless? I have days like that occasionally, as I think they are good to have from time to time. But there was a period in my life where that restless feeling, from too much of nothing, became my baseline. I was progressing by societal standards—furthering my education and learning new skills, but within the walls of my own mind I was floating aimlessly. In 2019, I remember feeling mindless.

I was one-dimensional. And it’s an alarming feeling to feel flat. But, in hindsight, what was even more jarring was that I began to sleepwalk through that uninspired feeling. I stopped questioning my reality, and instead blindly accepted what was. Luckily, there were two people who, when my life felt extraordinarily dull, helped to reinspire me. Because of them, I leaned into my thought and rerouted; I shifted from mechanical to conscious.

In doing so, I learned to think more about my why. Why do I strive to achieve? Why do I make the decisions that I do?

And so, in creating A Realistic Idealist, I gave much thought to why I write, why I’ve decided to share my writing, and why it’s taken me so long to do so. I came to realize that I have been fearful to share my work because doing so gives way to the possibility that it won’t be as fruitful as I dream it to be in my mind. If my writing, and the idea of what it could become, lived only in my head, then bringing it to life would add realism to my idealism. Which, to me, can feel like my bubble is being burst.

But is it really so bad to have idyllic thoughts rooted in reality? I came to the conclusion that it’s not, hence why I am sharing my work here now. Perhaps the dreams that I have of what my writing will become are too small. So, here’s to creating something that very well could exceed my wildest dreams, and to investing in my writing—which is a sparkle in my life.