When Dreams Cost More than I can Afford

Is it just me, or is this how society works?

I have missed more than three opportunities this year because I could not afford the travel expenses required to leave my country, and sometimes, even the costs required to move within my own country.

And as I write this, there is another opportunity I might likely miss if God doesn't come through for me.

This is the part of pursuing dreams that we don't talk about enough.

We tell young people to dream, be ambitious, network, volunteer, build portfolios, attend conferences, gain experience, create impact and position ourselves for the future.

But what happens when you cannot afford to get to the opportunity in the first place?

How am I expected to become independent and chase my dreams while barely scraping together enough to meet my daily needs?

How do I build the future while trying to survive the present?

These are questions I have been carrying for a while.

The pressure to be capable

As an eldest child, there is an expectation that I should be able to provide for my family.

As a leader, there is another expectation.

People see the titles, projects, things I have done, and the way I show up for others. Somewhere along the way, they begin to assume that I must have all the answers, solutions, connections and resources.

But who sees the person behind all of that?

Who sees that I am unemployed and trying so hard to find meaningful work that also provides meaningful pay?

Who sees the applications that don't work out?

The opportunities I have had to decline?

The opportunities I wanted desperately but could not afford to pursue?

The calculations I make before deciding whether I can afford to go somewhere?

Sometimes I wonder whether we have become too quick to call young people unresourceful without asking what resources they actually have access to.

"Plan better."

People tell you that if you plan enough, sacrifice enough and work hard enough, you will eventually make it.

Perhaps they mean well.

But what happens when you have planned?

What happens when you have sacrificed?

What happens when you are already doing everything you know to do, but the numbers still don't add up?

I don't particularly like staying at my family home. I want independence. I want my own space. But I stay because, at this point in my life, that is part of the sacrifice I am making to survive and hopefully grow.

And yet someone can look at that situation and tell me that I don't prioritize.

That I have not strategized well enough.

That I am lazy.

That perhaps I am simply not looking for work in the right places.

I wish people understood how painful it can be to hear these things when you are already fighting yourself every day to keep going.

When volunteering isn't enough

I have a portfolio filled with voluntary service.

I have given my time, skills, energy, ideas, weekends and sometimes my money.

I worked because I believed in service. Because I believed that the communities I serve deserve better. Because I believed that experience would eventually open doors.

And I still believe in service.

But we need to say this out loud:

Service is valuable, but service does not pay every bill.

Young people cannot be expected to volunteer indefinitely while simultaneously being told to become financially independent.

At some point, passion needs sustainability.

At some point, impact needs income.

At some point, the person doing the serving needs to be supported too.

We cannot keep telling young people to "keep volunteering" as though food, transport, rent, internet, family responsibilities and professional development can all be paid for with experience.

They say young people are not resourceful.

Sometimes I want to ask:

Do I have to do something illegal to finally be considered resourceful?

We want young people to be innovative, but don't always give them the resources to innovate.

We want them to be independent, but many cannot afford the first step toward independence.

We want them to create jobs while many struggle to find meaningful employment themselves.

We want them to change the world while they are quietly wondering how they will get through the month.

The invisible pressure

Then there is the pressure of being a young woman who is expected to show up powerfully.

Be articulate. Intelligent. Confident. Presentable. Emotionally strong.

Build a career.

Serve your community.

Support your family.

Take care of yourself.

Look good while doing all of it.

Sometimes the pressure is too much.

And it isn't only pressure from outside. Some of it comes from within.

Because I know what I am capable of.

I see the possibilities.

I see the girls who need someone to speak for them.

I see young people who need opportunities.

I see communities that could be different.

I see things I could build and people I could help.

And sometimes I wish I could simply close my eyes and stop seeing all of it for a while.

Because how do you rest when your heart is full of possibilities?

I am tired.

I don't think I am lazy.

I don't think I lack ambition.

I don't think I lack vision.

I think I am tired.

The internal turmoil has taken a toll on me. Sometimes my outward appearance shows signs of the unrest I carry inside.

And yet someone can look at me and ask about my skincare routine or remind me how important it is to look neat and presentable.

I understand. I know presentation matters.

But sometimes I wish we would remember that there is a human being underneath the presentation.

A human being who can be exhausted.

A human being who can be overwhelmed.

A human being who can have dreams and still struggle.

A human being who can be a leader and still need someone to lead her through a difficult season.

Sometimes all I need is a hug.

Emotional support.

A listening ear.

Someone who doesn't immediately give me a lecture about strategy or tell me to "work harder."

Someone who can simply say:

"I see you."

"I know you're trying."

"You don't have to figure everything out today."

"You are not alone."

And sometimes, yes, maybe a little push not the kind that makes me feel inadequate, but the kind that reminds me I can take one more step.

Maybe I don't need to stop dreaming.

Maybe I just need to stop punishing myself for not having reached the dream yet.

Maybe I need to learn that rest is not giving up.

That asking for help is not weakness. (Knowing and having the right people to ask for help is another discussion.)

That needing support does not cancel my leadership.

That being financially constrained does not mean I am incapable.

That missing an opportunity because I could not afford it does not mean I was not qualified for it.

And perhaps most importantly, my worth cannot be measured by how much I accomplish while suffering.

I am a person before I am a leader.

A daughter before I am a changemaker.

A human being before I am a portfolio of achievements.

And I, too, deserve care.

This is bigger than me.

My story is not unique.

There are young women who have abandoned opportunities because they couldn't afford transportation.

Young graduates who volunteer for years because they cannot find meaningful employment.

Young leaders expected to solve community problems while struggling with their own.

Young people with the ideas but not the capital.

The qualifications but not the connections.

The passion but not the resources.

And then we call them unresourceful.

Perhaps we need to ask better questions.

Instead of "Why didn't you plan better?" ask:

"What resources were available to you?"

Instead of "Why didn't you take the opportunity?" ask:

"What made the opportunity inaccessible?"

Instead of telling young people to volunteer more, ask:

"How can we create pathways for their skills and service to become sustainable livelihoods?"

Young people do not only need motivation.

We need access.

We need decent work.

We need mentorship.

We need funding.

We need networks that don't require us to already have money to enter them.

We need people willing to open doors, not just tell us to knock harder.

To the person struggling quietly

If you are in a similar place, I want you to know that I see you.

I don't have all the answers. I am still figuring this out too.

I am still learning how to carry my dreams without allowing them to crush me.

I am still learning how to rest without feeling guilty.

I am still learning that I can care about the world without personally carrying the weight of fixing it.

So this is my love, support and prayer to you.

I hope you find the resources you need.

I hope someone opens a door for you.

I hope the opportunity you have been praying for finally becomes accessible.

And when you cannot see the way forward, remember:

You are not failing simply because the road is difficult.

Sometimes the dream is still alive.

You are just tired.

And tired people need rest, support and a safe place to breathe.

Not shame.

Not judgment.

Not another lecture about how they should have planned better.

Sometimes, We just need a hug and a little push.