What if this is it?

That life is a moving target board until you die

The dream that kicked it off

This morning, I woke up from a dream where I was in an MMA fight.

I won the fight, but hated how I looked in the video replay. Sweaty, flushed, hair stuck to my face. And still, I was proud. It felt like the first time I really saw what I was capable of. And then I woke up and thought… shit.

I’m already living the life I fought for.
I just don’t always know how to enjoy it.

Walking away isn’t always reckless

I walked away from a 20-year design career last November.

That’s a bold-ass move. Especially as a single mum, living in one of the most expensive places in the world, and raised to believe that stability is survival and anything else is foolish.

I was done with the bad decisions, big egos, and working with people who had no clue what I actually did or why it mattered. I quit because I knew exactly what I didn’t want anymore, and because the next company would just be the same bullshit, different smell. I wasn’t going to spend the one life I have slowly dying in someone else’s office.

But before anyone thinks I’m an irresponsible parent… hold up. I made sure Lissie, the kitties, and I would be fine. Because I’m not some delusional dreamer who sucks at adulting. I’m strategic as fuck. And I wasn’t about to throw our lives into unnecessary instability just to find myself.

I stripped back every expense, cancelled all the useless insurance plans and subscriptions, moved my investments into high-yield funds, learned options, and built a financial cushion. One that covers more than everything we need.

And honestly, the one useful thing I got out of my divorce — besides my sanity — was learning how to make my money work. Coming from someone with ADHD who hates numbers, who used to hand over her entire salary, then divorced with no savings, no job, no alimony and nearly lost her 8-month-old… yeah. It’s a skill I had to learn the hard way.

I got the life I wanted

No 9-5. I own my home. I have time with my kid. I go on dates. I work on projects I actually care about. We eat well. We sleep safe. I can afford both our $5K MMA gym memberships. That’s more than enough.

After leaving my career, I did the first thing I promised Lissie. I finished writing and illustrating a 112-page choose-your-own-adventure book for her, and got it into Kinokuniya and Basheer — the two bookstores I used to haunt as a teen. That alone made it totally worth it.

I self-published it, built the author site and press kit, reached out to bookstores, media, and distributors — and handled the entire process myself. I got featured. Readers sent me their reviews directly. The book is now slowly making it’s way to bookstores across Southeast Asia. I made it all happen myself.

And that was the dream.
But now that I’m here, it’s… quiet.

Why the high doesn’t last

No one tells you how weird it feels to reach a goal and still feel unsettled. It’s not ungratefulness. I’m deeply thankful every day for this life I built. It’s just that the high fizzles fast, and then I find myself chasing the next thing. The pride is real. But it doesn’t stay for long.

It’s like I can’t sit still in my own success. Almost like I’m allergic to feeling done. It’s a bit like retail therapy. The buzz hits, then drops, and suddenly I need another hit.

And maybe that’s part of it.

Maybe the “dream life” isn’t a place you arrive.
Maybe it’s just choosing how you want to live every damn day.

Even when it’s boring. Or hard. Or when it feels like everyone else is sprinting ahead with shinier wins.

So, lately I’ve been asking myself:

If I’m already living how I’d want to live in retirement,
then how do I want to live until I die?

Think about it. Because if there’s no big endgame, then the life you’re living right now better be one you actually want. Not your parents’. Not your partner’s. Not some influencer on Tiktok. Yours.

We don’t need more. We need enough.

People talk about wanting Ferraris or millions in the bank or a job title that makes them sound important.

But I’ve had money. I’ve had a husband (or two). I’ve had the 6-figure job, a few holidays per year and the “looks good on paper” kind of life. None of that gave me peace. And I don’t even like designer bags.

You know what does?

Sending my daughter to her Brazilian jiu-jitsu class. Kitty cuddles in the morning. Having a beer on a weekday afternoon. Not arguing with idiots at work and dragging that energy home. Making something just because I feel like it. Owning my time. Feeling peaceful and free.

That’s it. That’s all I need.

I’m not jaded and neither have I given up.
I just finally know what matters to me now.
And it’s not more.

The moving target problem

Here’s my conclusion:

Even when you get what you want, it won’t feel like “enough” for long. There will always be something else. Another version of yourself you think you’re supposed to become. Another dream that hijacks your focus.

That’s just how it works.
Life is a moving target board and it doesn’t stop moving.

So I’m learning to enjoy the progress and not just the prize. To stay present with what I’ve built. To let the wins matter, even after the moment’s passed.

Even when no one’s clapping.
Even when they don’t feel big enough to post about.

Because I already won.
And I’m still sweaty.
But it’s still more than enough.

So now what?

Maybe it’s worth asking ourselves:

What if this is it?
And are you okay with that?
If not, what exactly are you waiting for?

P.S. If you’re living your “dream life” and still low-key losing your shit sometimes, you’re not alone. Tell us your story in the comments, restack, or just share it to someone who needs to hear this right now.

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