The horror and hype of acknowledging your future.

My first dream of 2025 included all of my bottom teeth falling out. Quinn’s too. They dropped out of my mouth and into my hand. I gripped all of his little baby teeth along with my adult molars tightly. I didn’t panic or anything, but the sensory disgust that Dream Me felt when my tongue slid around my gums haunts me well into the afternoon of Jan. 1…which is when I started writing this blog post without a single business intention/offer/call to action.

Honestly, writing anything at all is where I’m at. The sales pitches to wedding pros ready to invest in themselves will come.

Google says that the ‘teeth falling out’ dream is extremely common. It can be a sign of stress, anxiety, insecurity, or a fear of significant life changes. It’s often related to feelings of losing control or facing challenges in your personal appearance or self-image.

Neat.

It can also symbolize a period of transition or transformation in your life where you might be feeling vulnerable or uncertain about the future.

I’ve got all of the above going on, and yet, I know my future. Ironically, it does include dental work to fix the teeth I’ve already spent two years in middle school straightening just to never wear a retainer.

…I also have LASIK eye surgery on there: 20/20 vision in 2025? Yes, and.

I wrote my future down in my Notes app, and I look at it every day. It’s so big and certain that I’m simultaneously horrified and hype when I go down the list. Clearly, Dream Me has her hesitations. She’s probably scared at what she knows lies ahead: The work. The growing pains. The risky vulnerability. Maybe if I feel my teeth falling out, Awake Me will knock it off.

But if you ask Awake Me, my future is already a done deal. What’s the Harry Potter quote about conjuring the patronus charm?

"I knew I could do it this time, because...well, I’d already done it! Does that make sense?"

I read that your future self arrives in bits and pieces. Or maybe I heard it on a podcast. I know every single mother fucking thing on that Notes App list will happen, but I don’t know when or how.

This has happened to me before. Just once.

Writing this out right now, I believe my faith in ‘knowing’ comes back to my OG pipe dream goal waiting quietly in the back of my head since eighth grade. Every single bit and piece of my future is born from my time dancing, and coaching collegiate dance. I always knew I’d win nationals.

~Always.~

I knew I’d win even though I didn’t dance anymore, or have a team, or a plan. I knew a leather jacket embroidered with the title of ‘Champion’ on it–my leather jacket–would hang proudly in a cozy office. My cozy office!

That jacket (now partially hidden underneath many race medals) is my patronus charm.

I had no fucking clue what I’d have to do to get it (a lot), and the kind of world that would have to exist to give it to me (one in lockdown), and what I would do after I got it (...this!).

But I always, always knew.

Just like I know that I’ll retire Andy and financially support my family through coaching.

And there will be a waiting list to work with me. One that requires a fat deposit.

And I’ll have gorgeous, fresh floral arrangements in my home all the time. In multiple rooms. Maybe they’ll be delivered by Emma, or Marah, or Katelyn…or Kaitlyn ;) LMAO!

And I’ll run at least 25 miles per week. At. Least.

And summer Fridays will happen year round. (This is already happening lol)

And I’m going to coach you. And you’ll get your version of the jacket. Because you know your future too!

Expecto Patronum translates to ‘I await a patron.’

So I can dream about my teeth falling out, and be horrified. But I can also wake up hyped.

I am my patron, and you are yours.

And you can do it this time. This year. Because you’ve already done it!

Happy new year,

Heather