When Did We Decide Dreams Had an Expiry Date?

When did we decide Dreams had an expiry date?

Some time ago, during a conversation with a close family member, I mentioned that I’d recently turned down what we often jokingly call a “proper job”—you know, the kind with a contract, a pension plan, and the obligatory Pret A Manger meal deal at lunchtime. Instead, I chose to stick with the self-employed path. Why? Because the offer didn’t align with my own dreams and ambitions. I said no to safety in favour of authenticity.

Their response?

“That’s not good. You have a family to think of.”

Now, let me be clear: this person meant well. Their comment came from love, worry, and a deeply ingrained idea about what security looks like. But it stuck with me—and not in a good way.

Because here’s the thing we don’t talk about enough:

We tell our kids they can be anything.

We encourage them to dream, to imagine, to believe they can change the world if they work hard enough. We read them stories about people who dared to be different. We cheer them on at talent shows, science fairs, sports fields, and art exhibitions.

But then, somewhere along the line, adulthood rolls in. The world gets louder, greyer, more “sensible.” And slowly, those same dreams we encouraged start sounding naïve if spoken out loud.

We stop telling people to chase their dreams and start telling them to “be realistic.”

We swap “what do you want to be when you grow up?” with “what’s your job title again?”

We accept being unfulfilled, as long as the bills are paid and the grass is cut.

And heaven forbid you choose a path that doesn’t come with a salary slip or a HR department.

But here’s what that response—“you have a family to think of”—misses entirely:

What message does that send to our children?

Are we teaching them that dreams are valid... until they’re inconvenient?

That ambition is admirable... until they have kids of their own?

That purpose and passion are optional extras to be discarded once responsibilities arrive?

Surely, if we truly want our children to grow up believing they can live boldly, then we have to show them what that looks like. Not just say it, but live it.

And yes, being a parent does change things. It raises the stakes. But it also raises the need to live a life that feels meaningful—because our kids are watching. They don’t just listen to what we say. They observe what we do.

Ask anyone near the end of their life, and you’ll hear the same regret repeated like a drumbeat:“ I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

That’s not a throwaway comment. That’s truth, delivered too late.

So here’s my take: choosing a path that aligns with your dreams isn’t selfish—it’s setting an example. It’s refusing to teach your children that compromise is the price of adulthood. It’s choosing courage over comfort, even when the world says otherwise.

Because one day, your child might face the same decision. And when they do, what story will they remember? The one where their parent played it safe—or the one where they took the leap?