What ‘Someday’ Really Costs: The Hidden Price of Deferred Dreams

You didn't give up.

Let's start there, because that distinction matters more than you might realize. The dream of writing that novel, learning piano, starting that creative project you've been mentally designing for years—it's still there. You didn't abandon it. You made what felt like a reasonable bargain: not now, but someday.

When the kids are older. When you retire. When work settles down. When there's more time, more space, more certainty.

The problem? "Someday" has its own hidden cost structure, and most of us don't realize we're paying compound interest on deferred dreams until we look up one day and wonder why we feel so restless despite doing everything "right."

The Psychology of Dreams on Hold: They Don't Fade, They Compound

Here's what happens when you put creative dreams on pause: they don't actually go dormant. They don't fade politely into the background while you handle the urgent demands of daily life. Instead, they accumulate.

Think of it like this: every time you have a moment where you think "I wish I was painting again" or "I really should get back to songwriting," that's not just a passing thought. It's a tiny withdrawal from your sense of wholeness. And those small withdrawals add up.

Research in psychology shows that unmet personal aspirations don't simply disappear from our consciousness. They create what's called "psychological incompleteness"—a background hum of unfinished business that subtly drains our energy and sense of self. You might not think about your deferred creative dreams every day, but your psyche knows something important got left behind.

This is why so many capable, accomplished people—people who have built successful careers, raised families, contributed meaningfully to their communities—still report feeling that quiet restlessness. That sense that something essential is missing, even though by all external measures, life is working.

Your creative self is still patiently waiting. And the longer it waits, the louder that inner voice becomes.

The "When Things Settle Down" Trap

The kids get older, yes—but then there are aging parents to care for, or grandchildren who need you, or new career opportunities that demand attention. Retirement arrives, but so does decreased energy, or health challenges, or the simple reality that decades of not practicing your creative skills means you're starting from a much more difficult place than you would have been at 35, or 45, or 55.

The trap isn't that life stays busy. It's that we keep moving the goalpost while telling ourselves we're being reasonable. Meanwhile, the part of us that needs creative expression gets quieter and quieter—not because the need disappeared, but because we've gotten very good at not listening to it.

And here's what no one tells you: waiting for the "right time" to pursue creativity later in life often means you're fighting an uphill battle against diminished confidence. The longer you wait, the more that voice saying "who am I to do this?" gets amplified. Your skills feel rustier. The gap between where you are and where you want to be feels wider. The comparison game with people who never stopped feels more brutal.

Starting is always hard. But starting after years of deferral is exponentially harder because now you're not just overcoming practical obstacles—you're overcoming accumulated self-doubt and the weight of all those years of "someday."

What Happens to Your Sense of Self When Dreams Stay Theoretical

There's a particular kind of erosion that happens when your creative dreams remain purely theoretical year after year.

You stop trusting yourself.

Not in obvious ways. You're still competent in your work, reliable in your relationships, capable in all the ways that matter to the outside world. But internally, there's a quiet fracture. A part of you that says "I want this" while another part consistently overrides it with "but not now."

Over time, this pattern teaches you that your own desires aren't priorities. That what you want for yourself can always be postponed for something more important, more urgent, more deserving of your time and energy.

This is how people end up feeling simultaneously successful and somehow untethered from themselves. You've listened outward so consistently—to what your job needs, what your family needs, what makes practical sense—that you've forgotten how to listen inward. You've become very good at being what others need you to be, and somewhere along the way, you lost track of who you are when no one else is watching.

The identity erosion is subtle but significant. You go from "I'm a person who loves to write" to "I'm someone who used to write" to "I'm someone who wishes they had time to write" to, eventually, a vague sense of creative longing that doesn't even have specific shape anymore.

When dreams stay theoretical long enough, they stop feeling like possibilities and start feeling like evidence of your own inadequacy. Why haven't you made time? What's wrong with you that you can't seem to prioritize this thing you supposedly care about?

It's not a personal failing. It's the natural consequence of chronically deprioritizing your creative self while life unfolds around you.

The Five-Year Test: Where Will You Be If Nothing Changes?

Here's an exercise that cuts through all the comfortable stories we tell ourselves about "someday":

Look at where you are right now with your creative dreams. Now imagine it's five years from today, and absolutely nothing has changed. You're still in the same place—still thinking about that project, still wishing you had time, still planning to get started "when things settle down."

How does that feel?

If your honest answer is "devastating" or even just "deeply disappointing," that's information. That's your inner self telling you that the cost of continued deferral is actually higher than you've been admitting.

Five years is both a long time and no time at all. It's long enough to make meaningful progress on almost any creative pursuit if you're actually working on it. It's also short enough that it arrives before you're ready for it, which means five years of continued "someday" will pass faster than you think.

The five-year test isn't meant to create panic. It's meant to create honesty. Because here's what else is true: if you keep doing what you're doing now, you'll keep getting what you're getting now. That quiet restlessness? That sense that something essential got left behind? That won't magically resolve on its own.

This isn't about blowing up your life. It's not about quitting your job to pursue art full-time or neglecting your responsibilities to chase a dream. It's about being brutally honest with yourself about the cost of continued postponement.

Because the real question isn't "Can I afford to pursue this now?" The real question is "Can I afford not to?"

From "Someday" to "A Realistic Plan"

Start with clarity, not commitment. Before you can create a realistic plan, you need to get honest about what you actually want. Not what sounds impressive or what you think you should want, but what genuinely calls to you. This requires carving out space to reconnect with that inner voice you've gotten so good at tuning out.

Address the inner obstacles first. All the time management strategies in the world won't help if you're fighting against deep-seated beliefs about who gets to be creative, whether it's "too late" for you, or whether you're good enough to even try. The practical roadblocks are real, but the internal ones are often more significant.

Design around your actual life, not your fantasy life. A realistic plan acknowledges your real constraints while still making meaningful space for creative work. It doesn't require finding 20 hours a week you don't have. It requires being strategic about the time you do have and protecting it fiercely.

Build in support and accountability. One of the biggest reasons deferred dreams stay deferred is isolation. When you're trying to honor your creative self in the margins of a busy life, you need structure, support, and someone who takes your vision as seriously as you're learning to take it yourself.

Accept that imperfect action beats perfect planning. You don't need to have it all figured out. You don't need ideal conditions. You need to start, even if it's messy, even if you're not ready, even if you're scared. Because "someday" thinking is comfortable precisely because it allows you to keep planning without ever risking actual vulnerability.

The shift from "someday" to "now" doesn't happen because circumstances finally align perfectly. It happens because you decide that the cost of continued deferral is finally higher than the discomfort of beginning.

The Creative Self You've Been Keeping on Hold

Here's what I've learned from working with creative people who are reclaiming dreams they set aside: the wanting doesn't go away. The need for creative expression doesn't fade just because you've gotten good at ignoring it.

What does fade is your confidence that you're allowed to want it. Your belief that you're capable of it. Your sense that it's not too late.

But here's the truth that needs saying: it's not too late. It will never be too late as long as you're still here, still feeling that restlessness, still wondering what might be possible if you finally took yourself seriously.

The question isn't whether you gave up your creative dreams. You didn't. They're still there, patiently waiting.

The question is: how much longer are you willing to make them wait?

Because "someday" has a cost. And every day you choose "not yet" is a day you're paying it. 

If you're tired of deferring your creative dreams and ready to move from "someday" to a realistic plan, I take on a limited number of new clients each month who are ready to take their creative selves seriously. Learn more about Creative Development Coaching or schedule an introductory session to explore what becomes possible when you stop postponing and start building.