Confessions of an Ex- Dopamine Junkie

So…. you know I’m the first one to cheer you on when it comes to setting bold goals, dreaming big, and reinventing your life. I’m all about it. Always have been.

But lately, I’ve been thinking about something that doesn’t get talked about enough.

What happens when dreaming becomes dodging?

Let me explain.

We all know how good it feels to chase something new. That fresh start energy? The adrenaline of a big idea? That little burst of “I’m doing something with my life!” It’s real. It’s addictive. And if you’re not careful—it becomes the only thing you chase.

I’ve got a name for this. I call it dopamine junkie mode.

It’s when you leap from dream to dream, goal to goal, without ever slowing down long enough to fully land. You move the goalposts before you’ve even touched down in the end zone. You skip the part where you rest, reflect, and actually feel what you’ve accomplished.

And you know what? I get it. There’s a certain high that comes with being “in motion.” It feels productive. It feels powerful. It feels like growth.

But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: Constant forward motion can be just another form of running away.

Sometimes we use big dreams to avoid the quiet truth that what we already have—right in front of us—might be enough.

Here’s where it gets personal.

For years, I never even considered renovating my mom’s house. The house that holds so many memories—some beautiful, some complicated. It was never even on the radar. I told myself I needed a fresh start. I needed something different. Something more exciting. Something that looked more like the next chapter of my life.

But somewhere along the way, in the swirl of reinvention and ambition, I started asking a different question:
What if the next chapter isn’t about building something brand new?
What if it’s about returning to something old—and seeing it through a new lens?

Let me tell you, the decision to renovate my mom’s house didn’t come with fanfare. It came with hesitance. Resistance. A little voice in my head saying, Really, Jes? This?

And yet… now that I’m in it—living it, designing it, reimagining it—it feels deeply, quietly right. It feels like something I almost missed because I was too busy dreaming about everything else.

So I want to ask you something today.

What have you been rushing past?

What quiet, beautiful opportunity have you dismissed—not because it’s wrong, but because it wasn’t shiny or new enough to feel exciting?

Is there something—or someone—you’ve been overlooking in the name of chasing the next big thing?

Because listen, I’m still here for the dreamers. Always will be. But I also want to advocate for the grounded dreamers. The ones who know that success isn’t always about what’s next. Sometimes it’s about what’s now.

So here’s your invitation:

Slow down. Look around.
Take a breath.
Ask yourself: What’s one meaningful thing I can commit to for the next 90 days?

Not five things.
Not everything.
Just one.

One area where you want to feel more grounded.
One relationship you want to nurture.
One idea you’ve been circling that’s actually ready to land.

And then—when you get there—pause.

Don’t move the finish line.

Rest.
Celebrate.
Soak it in.

Because the goal isn’t just to build a life that looks good on paper or makes for a great Instagram caption.

The goal is to build a life that actually feels good. One you’re proud to wake up to. One you’re present for.

One where you’re not always chasing something better… because you’re already here.

And listen, if that sounds like a challenge—if it feels unfamiliar or a little uncomfortable—I promise you, you’re not alone. I’m learning how to do this too.

This season is teaching me what it means to stop racing and start rooting—to stop chasing every dream, and instead, choose one dream and love it into being.

You’ve got this. And I’m right here with you.