When Dreaming Starts to Cost More

A reflection on ambition, discernment, and choosing hope in your 40s

These past few years in my 40s, I’ve noticed something.

The older women in our lives do not really tell you what happens when you reach this stage, beyond the random and unprovoked body pain, the whispers about perimenopause, and the quiet secrets around dyeing our gray hair.

What they forget to tell us is this.

Dreaming gets harder.

Not because we lose imagination, but because we gain context.

For so many women in their 40s and up, dreaming looks different from what it did before.

We know the cost now.

We know the sacrifices.

We know the emotional labor required to hold a vision steady while life keeps throwing obstacles.

You know what disappointment feels like when you’ve lived enough life. Not the teenage hurt that feels like the end of the world. It’s the kind that settles in your chest for a spell, but never stays long, because somewhere along the way you learned that this, too, will pass.

Dreaming in your 20s is fun and sexy. But I have come to realize that dreaming in my 40s is courageous. At my big age of 44, I have lived enough to know how things can fall apart, and I still choose to work toward the dream anyway.

That's foolishness; it's mastery.

And maybe that's why our elders didn't tell us about what was up ahead.

Like most rites of passage, some things have to be walked into without a full map. Some truths aren’t meant to be handed down neatly packaged. They’re meant to be discovered through living. Through trial. Through the quiet accumulation of experience.

Maybe the courage of this season is not dreaming bigger, but dreaming honestly. Choosing hope with eyes wide open. Trusting yourself enough to begin again, even when you know exactly what it might cost.

Why Dreaming Feels Riskier as We Get Older

As we get older, dreaming stops being abstract.

It becomes practical.

Measured.

Attached to time, energy, family, health, and responsibility.

We understand what it asks of us.

And yes, sometimes that clarity means our dreams are misunderstood. When a woman speaks confidently about what she wants, it can be misread. Not because the dream is wrong, but because clarity often unsettles those still negotiating with their own desires.

Their reaction is not the point. The dream is.

If your dreams do not disrupt at least one internal limit, you are probably aiming too low.

A real dream changes something. A belief. A pattern. A cycle you inherited or accepted without question.

Dreaming without apology is not about proving anything to anyone else. It is about refusing to negotiate with your own fear.

It means you stop shrinking your vision to make it easier to carry. You stop explaining what does not require permission. You stop waiting for reassurance before you move.

Some people are more comfortable with you when you are surviving. Thriving changes the dynamic.

That does not make the dream reckless. It makes it honest.

The life you want is not built on permission slips. It is built on energy. Focus. Consistency. And a level of faith in yourself that does not require consensus.

Dreaming at this age requires audacity. Not the loud obnoxious kind. Nah, it's the steady kind that looks like discipline, boundaries, and silence.

Yes, silence.

Because sometimes the most responsible thing you can do for a dream is protect it long enough for it to grow.

Dreaming without apology does not need a vision board. It needs a spine. And a plan. And a level of self-trust that does not crumble when life gets inconvenient.

Your life will not change because you hope differently. It will change because you move differently.

So dream. Loudly in your spirit. Boldly in your actions. Ruthlessly within your boundaries. And most importantly, without apology.

-Michelle Elaine