The Ballad of a Long Held Dream

Hey there friends!

There comes a moment in life—a quiet, almost shy moment—when a dream you’ve been holding for a long time finally dares to step into the light. A dream that may have felt too big for your nervous system. Too wild. Too bold for someone like you.

And then, suddenly, it’s there. No longer just a thought or a whisper or a secret hope. It becomes tangible. Real. Reachable.

Your effort bears fruit. Your hesitation becomes a distant memory. Those sneaky voices—you’re not good enough, this isn’t meant for you, you don’t have what it takes—soften, crack, and quietly fall away under the simple, undeniable weight of achievement.

Your achievement.

Whether big or small, it’s yours. And moments like this deserve a pause. They deserve acknowledgment. They deserve celebration.

Because what brought you here wasn’t luck—it was persistence. Discipline. And that wild, glowing fire inside you that refused to go out.

A book. My book.

In just a few days, it will be published.

This journey—beautiful, exhausting, sacred—has been filled with inspiration and self‑doubt, creativity and anxiety, confusion and joy, overwhelm and sensitivity, silence and loud self‑expression. And then came an email. One of those emails that quietly rearrange your inner world:

“Congratulations. Your book has been added to our ‘coming soon’ section and will be available worldwide. Take a moment to celebrate this milestone.”

A miraculous sentence. One I read twice. Three times. Slowly.

I have always loved books. To me, they were never just objects. They were portals. Tickets to other worlds, other spirits, other ways of thinking and being.

Books were my nighttime ritual, my escape hatch, my way of exhaling at the end of a long day. Through their characters, I traveled. Through their problems and adventures—real or imagined—I reflected on my own life from a gentler distance.

The need to write my own book appeared during the darkest chapter of my life. A time when everything around me felt like it was crumbling, and I couldn’t see the light ahead of me.

I had two choices:

1. Let the darkness swallow me whole

2. Fight it

I chose the second.

My weapons?

Music—earbuds permanently glued to my ears.

Dancing—even when it felt odd, awkward, or irrational (learning how to shimmy quite literally saved my sanity).

A discreet tattoo on my arm, symbolizing eternal happiness—a quiet reminder that I deserve it.

And writing.

It started innocently. A folder on my computer. A private place to pour out suppressed emotions, fears, and fragile hopes. A title that somehow mirrored many chapters of my life. I had no idea where it would lead.

Then something shifted.

Characters were born. Complex, curious, magnetic personalities I grew to love. I followed them as much as I guided them. They invited me into their lives, their choices, their dilemmas.

That is how my novel came into being.

And today, I share it with you—not just as a book, but as a message. A reminder to chase your dreams instead of letting them haunt you. To create instead of hiding. To fight for the light, even when it feels far away.

I don’t know how this story will be received. I don’t know if readers will love it—even a fraction of how much I do. I don’t know how to promote it. I don’t know how far it will travel.

And maybe that’s okay.

The publication of my book is simply the next chapter in this beautiful adventure.

But regardless of the outcome, I know this: I deserve to pause.

To remember the nights when I waited for my babies to fall asleep, for the house to finally quiet down, so I could meet my characters uninterrupted. To remember the excitement—the spark—every time a chapter felt right. The days spent imagining a cover that could hold the soul of the story and whisper its atmosphere to those passing by.

I don’t yet dare to call myself an author. But I hope—deeply—to grow into that title one day.

The future, after all, is ours to see.

Tonight, however, I make a promise to myself.

Between my kids homework, laundry, and corporate responsibilities, I will pour myself a glass of wine.Not the everyday glass—no. I’ll take out the good ones. The ones saved for moments like this.

I’ll play my favorite music (the title of this post was inspired by The Ballad of the Cable Hogue by Calexico—what I’m listening to right now). And I will make a quiet toast.

To myself. And to my sweet Dilemma.

More details about the book can be found below 🤍

https://books.friesenpress.com/store/title/119734000602256188

Love, Katerina