When the Dream Starts Coming True (and You Still Feel Like You Don’t Deserve It)

I got paid today.
Not just paid — but paid an amount that made me sit back, stare at the screen, and whisper, “Is this real?”

Through Bluebonnet Books, I’m publishing a client’s book that’s truly spectacular — meaningful content, a clear voice, and a message that matters. The formatting is done. The editing is light. The cover is in the works. The backend logistics are simple. In every way, this project feels right.

And yet, I can’t celebrate the way I want to.

Because there’s a voice in my head that won’t quiet down.
Not one that says I’m lucky — no, it’s sharper than that.
It says, “Someone else could do it better.”
“You’re not the best person for this.”
“They’ll eventually realize they made a mistake.”

That voice takes every bit of pride and twists it into self-doubt. It makes me question the value I bring, even when the evidence is right in front of me.

But here’s the truth I keep circling back to: someone else could do it differently — maybe even beautifully. But that doesn’t mean I’m not meant to be doing it too.

I’ve worked hard to build this dream. To create something that helps others bring their stories to life. To make Bluebonnet Books a home for writers who deserve to be seen and celebrated. And now, standing in the middle of a dream that’s finally becoming real, I’m realizing that sometimes success doesn’t feel like success. Sometimes it feels like fear wearing a new outfit.

I want to celebrate. I want to scream this win from the rooftops. I want to let myself be proud. But right now, I’m sitting in the quiet between excitement and disbelief — learning how to let both exist.

Because maybe that’s what growth really looks like:
Feeling unworthy, but showing up anyway.
Hearing the doubts, but still doing the work.
Knowing others could do it too — and still believing there’s room for you.

Today, I’m choosing to let myself feel both. To let the gratitude and the disbelief coexist. To let the fear chatter while I quietly, stubbornly, keep showing up for the life I prayed for.

Because maybe that’s what making your dreams come true really looks like — not a clean victory lap, but a trembling step forward while your heart learns how to believe it’s real.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt that same tug-of-war — between pride and self-doubt, joy and fear — I see you. You’re not alone in it. Let’s keep showing up for the lives we’re building, even when our minds haven’t caught up to our hearts yet.