Let me Pipe Up real quick.

They called it a pipe dream.

Every time I spoke about building something bigger,
About stepping out the mud without asking permission—
They’d laugh.
Shake their heads.
Tell me what a man like me could or couldn’t do.

I used to argue.
Used to try and prove I was serious.
Used to burn daylight explaining myself to people
Who already decided I was a lost cause.

But now I know better.
Now I let the smoke rise in silence,
And I let the work speak louder than my defense ever could.

See, what they don’t know is
The loudest critic wasn’t them.
It was the voice in my own head.
That voice that knows where all the old bruises are buried.
That voice that don’t even sound like me.

It sounded... father shaped

Not just the voice,
But the way he used to laugh when I tried something new.
The way he’d bring up stuff I did as a kid
And weaponize it in front of other people like it was funny.
Like the proof that I’d never be anything
Was in the stories he told about me.

That voice grew legs.
It followed me into adulthood.
And sometimes when I’m alone, trying to move forward,
That voice is right there with me—
Dragging the past into the present.
Mocking my growth.
Acting like a scoreboard instead of a parent.

But here’s what I finally figured out:

That voice ain’t wisdom.
It ain’t legacy.
It’s fear.
It’s projection.

It’s a man who never learned how to lead
Trying to manage his shame by shrinking the next one in line.

And yeah—I was a child once.
A child who believed the world was good.
A child who believed people would protect that belief.
That they’d guide it. Water it. Guard it.
Not laugh at it until it died.

But I’m not a child anymore.
And I don’t need his permission to build something beautiful.
I don’t need his voice in my head telling me what I’m not.
Because the truth is, everything he couldn’t believe in—
I’m becoming.

This is what birthed the idea for this category. It's a sarcastic poke at everyone that never believed in me.

So yeah.
They can call it a pipe dream if they want.

Just know I’m walking it out.
Brick by brick.
Day by day.

And if it makes you uncomfortable to see someone become
What you swore they never could—
That ain’t my problem.
That’s your concha to carry. (If you want to understand this reference click this sentence.)

And it’s wild how many people will try to disguise their disbelief as concern.

They’ll say they’re “just looking out.”
They’ll act like your dreams are dangerous—not because they are,
but because your dreams demand something from them.
Something they’re not ready to face.

‘Cause when you rise,
they either gotta admit they’ve been sleeping on you…
or admit they’ve been sleeping on themselves.

And most folks would rather doubt you
than wake up to the mirror in front of them.

That’s why they call it foolish.
That’s why they downplay your plans,
pick apart your progress,
mock your effort before it’s finished.

It makes them feel safer.

And if you’ve been told all your life
that dreaming beyond your block is dangerous,
that confidence is arrogance,
that trying is trying too hard…

Then you start second guessing things
you were born to do.

You start moving like you need a permission slip to heal.
Like you need applause to start.
Like you need them to believe before you do.

But listen—
you don’t need none of that.

You don’t need their cheers.
You don’t need their permission.
You don’t even need them to understand.

This ain’t about being understood.
This is about finally understanding yourself.

That you are more than the story they’ve been telling.
More than the kid they remember.
More than the man they try to shrink back into the box
they’re comfortable with.

You ain’t too loud.
You ain’t doing too much.
You’re just not asking to be small anymore.

And when you stop asking,
they start panicking.

But let ‘em.

Let ‘em squirm.
Let ‘em talk.
Let ‘em sit around pointing at what you haven’t done yet.

Because when it’s built—when it’s finished—when it’s standing tall and undeniable?
They’ll either lie about ever doubting you,
or go quiet from the shame of recognizing their own reflection in your fire.

Either way, you won’t need ‘em.

You never did.

Remember, we all carry something, but here you don't have to carry it alone.

Pipe Up!

Sometimes when fighting the voices in our head journaling helps. We have a Weekly Reflection Journal free for download.

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