The Struggle of Watching Others Live Your Dreams
In life, it's not uncommon to feel a deep yearning to achieve your dreams. But what happens when those dreams seem to be materializing in front of your eyes — but not for you? Watching others live the very life you’ve always envisioned can be both heartbreaking and frustrating. It can feel like your dreams are slipping away, leaving you stuck in a place of longing and uncertainty.
I remember sitting in a cozy corner of my favorite coffee shop, my hands wrapped around a warm mug. A couple of my closest friends were sitting across from me, their eyes practically glowing as they talked about wedding venues and baby names. One of them had just gotten engaged, and the other was pregnant with her first child. They were both so excited, practically radiating with joy.
I smiled and asked all the right questions — “When’s the wedding?” “Have you thought about baby names yet?” — but inside, I felt like I was sinking. It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy for them — I was — but it was hard not to notice how their lives were moving forward while mine felt… still. They were checking off all the milestones — engagement, marriage, babies — and I couldn’t help but wonder when it would finally be my turn.
Afterward, I sat alone in my car, hands resting on the steering wheel, just staring out the window. That familiar lump rose in my throat as the thought crept in: God, why not me? I had prayed for these things — dreamed about them for years — but it felt like God had put me on pause while everyone else’s lives were fast-forwarding. It was hard not to feel like I was falling behind.
And then, the guilt crept in. Who am I to feel like this? I’m 21. I graduated early from college. I’ve built more in my life than some people ever get the chance to. I have an incredible support system, a growing business, and opportunities most people my age could only dream of. Who am I to want more when Jesus has already given me so much?
But that’s the tricky part about longing — it doesn’t care how much you’ve accomplished. You can have everything and still feel like you’re missing something. It’s not that I’m ungrateful — I’m so thankful for the life I’ve built. But it’s hard not to feel like I’m somehow behind when everyone around me seems to be stepping into the next chapter, and I’m still standing at the starting line.
The pain of seeing others living out your dreams is something many can relate to. It’s not just jealousy — it’s that quiet, hollow feeling that you’ve somehow missed your chance. It’s easy to wonder why they seem to get all the opportunities while you are left waiting for your own. In those moments, it’s crucial to remember that God's plan for each of us is unique, even if it doesn’t look the way we expect.
I’ve prayed so many times, asking God why He was making me wait. I’ve begged Him for clarity, for some kind of sign that I was on the right track. But instead of answers, I got silence — and that silence felt like rejection. I would tell myself, Maybe you’re not working hard enough. Maybe you’re not praying hard enough. Maybe you’re just not meant for the things you want. That’s the hardest part — feeling like maybe your dreams were never meant to happen in the first place.
But God doesn’t work that way. His timing isn’t punishment; it’s protection. Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us that "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens." That verse used to frustrate me because I wanted my time to be now. But looking back, I can see how God was protecting me from things I didn’t even realize at the time. The relationships that didn’t work out? They were teaching me how to love and how to set boundaries. The doors that closed? They were guiding me toward the right path — even when it didn’t feel like it.
Galatians 6:9 speaks to this exact feeling: "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." The “proper time” — that part used to sting. What if my time never came? What if I was just meant to keep waiting while everyone else got to step into their blessings? But that’s not how God works. He’s not handing out blessings based on worthiness — He’s working behind the scenes, preparing something specifically designed for me. And for you.
I’ve started to realize that the waiting isn’t empty. It’s preparation. Maybe I’m not walking down the aisle or starting a family yet because God is growing something in me first — patience, resilience, deeper faith. It’s hard to see it that way when you’re scrolling through engagement photos or holding someone else’s baby or hearing about another promotion. But just because someone else’s dream is happening now doesn’t mean yours isn’t coming.
I think about how often I’ve felt like I was standing in the hallway, hearing doors open for everyone else while mine stayed locked. But maybe the door God is preparing for me isn’t just locked — maybe He’s still building the room behind it.
It’s hard to sit in the tension of gratitude and longing at the same time. I feel guilty even admitting that I want more. I’ve accomplished so much, and yet it still feels like there’s something missing. But I think that’s part of being human — learning how to sit in the tension of the already and the not yet. Trusting that just because God hasn’t given me that dream yet doesn’t mean He’s withholding it forever.
So I’m learning to sit in the waiting. To celebrate others while trusting that my time is coming too. It’s not easy — I still have days where I feel forgotten. But I’m learning that God’s plan isn’t just about timing; it’s about purpose. And when it’s my time, it will be exactly what I’ve been waiting for — and maybe even better than I imagined.
So if you’re sitting in the waiting — if you’re watching others step into the very life you’ve dreamed of — know that you’re not forgotten. Your story isn’t delayed; it’s unfolding in God’s perfect timing. And when that door opens, you’ll understand why you had to wait. Until then, keep trusting. Keep showing up. Your moment is coming — and it’s going to be beautiful.