Sometimes, the most revealing part of how we feel about work lives in what we don’t say out loud.
It lives in the desires we keep private. The things we would love to try. The life we briefly imagine and then quickly dismiss.
It lives in the what if…
What if I did something completely different?
What if I put my story out there?
What if I built something of my own?
For many of us, these questions can feel almost embarrassing. Indulgent. Unrealistic. Impractical. Too much.
And before a train of thought can even take shape, the mind gets to work.
Not me.
My partner would never go for it.
That’s too good to be true.
I can’t make money doing that.
I don’t have the right background.
I’m too old for that.
I am starting down a new road, a branch of what I’ve already been doing. It is close enough to feel connected to my work, but far enough out that I don’t feel sturdy. And the embarrassment settles in: What am I doing? Who am I?
If I can be honest, this idea has been living inside my head for several years now. Quietly. Privately. A whisper I’ve been ignoring for a while. But I’ve started saying it out loud lately. And as the idea gets louder, so does the fear.
It paralyzes me. I am suddenly interested in doing anything else.
We talk ourselves out of things before we even let ourselves want them fully.
Sometimes it looks like practicality. And sometimes it is. There are bills to pay, families to consider, real constraints and real responsibilities. There are real limits on time, money, energy, and risk.
But sometimes practicality is actually fear. And the fear is trying to protect us.
It protects us from disappointment.
It protects us from embarrassment.
It protects us from the vulnerability of wanting something that may not work out.
It protects us from the ache of realizing that we may want more.
There is a tenderness that comes with admitting a desire before you know what to do with it.
I want to write.
I want to teach.
I want to work for myself.
I want that position.
I want to do work that feels closer to who I am now.
As a coach, I notice how quickly people move from desire to logistics.
How would that work?
How much would it cost?
What would I have to give up?
How would I explain it?
What if I failed?
And many of us are not only afraid of failing.
We are afraid of being changed by what we want. We may have to make different choices. We may have to disappoint someone. We may have to be more honest with ourselves about what no longer fits.
Part of my job is to protect the desire long enough for someone to imagine it.
Not because every dream should be pursued or every longing followed. Not because we ignore reality or because practical questions do not matter.
But because we cannot discern what matters if we keep dismissing it. We cannot know whether something is a passing fantasy, a creative impulse, grief, or a calling if we never examine it closely.
Sometimes the work is simply to create space between the desire and the fear.
To slow down the rush to reality. To let the desire exist.
What would it feel like?
What would be different?
What part of you comes alive when you picture it?
What are you afraid would happen if you took it seriously?
And this is where the deeper work begins.
Elizabeth Alvarado is a career and wellness coach who writes about the inner work of work. You can reach her at alvaradocoaching.com.