I Went on a Nine Year Search for My Dream
I didn’t realize that it was in my heart all along.
When I was younger, I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I knew what I was looking for and that I had it all figured out. I thought that I had found my life’s purpose to serve others with my whole life. I followed the way I thought I would find it and gave myself to it for nine years, a life as a Christian missionary. I sacrificed many things, other opportunities, a normal social life, free time and chilling out, in order to go after what I was looking for.
I felt isolated, often alone, a stranger in the midst of the ever evolving world. But I didn’t regret my decision. I knew my goal and what I was seeking and it’s what kept me from looking back. I was convinced of what I was doing and this strengthened me through it all.
Then one day my life turned upside down. I hit a wall and fell flat on my face. After almost a decade of service and hard work and toil, in a country that wasn’t my own, speaking a language that I never thought I’d be speaking, I found myself confronting one of the hardest realities anyone has to face, my limitations.
I had worked hard. I had sacrificed. I had made a difference in my own little way, yes. And I had my happy moments. But the tension and the intensity with which I lived my life had begun to build up. I found myself more and more in moments of anxiety and crisis. Sleepless nights piled up. Loneliness crept in.
Yet the drive to keep going and the sense of responsibility to my commitment kept me going. I knew what I was doing and for whom I was living. It was for God and for all the people I could serve. For them, it was worth to give my whole life. It was clear as day. If I could make one person truly and fully happy, it was worth it.
But the anxiety and crisis built up to a point where my body couldn’t take it anymore, and despite what my will and zeal dictated, I imploded. I lost my drive. I became irritable and cynical. Life lost its luster. The engine lost its steam. Everywhere I looked, everything I did, all I felt was pain. Isolation, sadness, depression. All of them stormed out of the shadows and invaded my life.
And when I hit that low point, I did all that I could do. I retreated and hid. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t get what was wrong. In a sense, I didn’t even want to know what the problem was because I no longer had the energy to take steps to fix it. All I could do was sit in my own little corner of the room and stare into space.
I felt like a loser. A total and empty man. For someone who had committed to a life of service, sacrifice, and giving in order to bring others happiness, here I was feeling sorry for myself when what I was going through was nothing compared to what so many others suffered.
But my suffering was not for lack of material things. It was a struggle to accept who I was.
Ironically, that’s often the most difficult struggle we have to face. To accept who we are. To accept our limitations. To accept that we don’t always get what we want. That we were made for something else than what we wanted.
But I didn’t want to accept myself. I didn’t want to let go of my dream. It was too important for me. So I fought and struggled inside of me. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t study. I isolated myself from everyone and everything. It was a boxing match with myself, and I felt myself slipping away.
After days of this torture, I came face to face with the truth, and I saw that there was light at the end of the tunnel, but it to get to it, I had to be humble, accept it, and act.
I realized that I had dignity as a person despite and maybe even because of my limitations. I was born a certain way. I had many talents but many limitations. It’s what makes me unique. It’s what makes me human. I wasn’t Superman, I was just David, and that’s what sets me apart from everyone else, and each and every person has this unique and special quality: diversity.
This diversity is what makes the world so special. And the journey of happiness begins from finding out what sets you apart and bringing to the table what only you can.
I realized that I had value and worth and that just because I didn’t have the qualities for one way of life doesn’t mean that I was a failure at living. It just meant that there was another avenue waiting for me to walk through and to contribute what I could. That just because I don’t fit in one piece of the jigsaw puzzle doesn’t mean that I should be thrown away, but that there’s another maybe even more beautiful place on the board for me.
I had a choice. To deny who I was and keep on trying to fit a square piece into a circular hole, to chase my childhood dream, or accept who I was and go on to search for that place where I would belong and make a difference, a place that fit with who I really was.
Making that decision took a lot out of me, more than I thought I could give, but in the end, I accepted. I accepted who I was, and I was proud. I chose to go back to the drawing board, to look for what I could do based on who I was inside and based on my identity.
I dared to dream that I could live a life that was happy and truly fulfilling, and I disregarded the lie of the world that says that dreams don’t exist, that we have to be happy with being filled halfway.
I changed my nine-year career path and sought out something new.
And ever since I did, life has shown me it had so much more under its sleeve. I just had to let go of what I hung onto, my little security blankets, my insercurities, and the little dreams that I was afraid of leaving behind.
But it’s only when we free our hearts that we can have the space for the bigger dreams, the ones that truly make a difference. The ones that match who we are inside.
It only takes that leap of faith.
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