Out of My Mind - On Purpose

Why I Stopped Explaining My Dreams and Started Building a Life Nobody Else Could See Yet

Apparently, I'm Delusional.

"You're such a dreamer."

"Your goals are unrealistic."

"You can't do that."

"You want to make $10,000 a month? And that's just your starting point?"

"You need to set the bar lower."

"You're going to disappoint yourself."

"You're out of your damn mind."

I've heard it all.

The comments. The unsolicited advice. The awkward silence when I start talking about my plans.

The looks people give each other when they think I'm not paying attention.

And honestly?

I've probably been called crazy more times than I can count.

For a long time, it bothered me.

Not because I questioned whether I was capable of accomplishing my goals, but because I couldn't understand why the people closest to me had such a difficult time believing in the possibilities I could see so clearly.

Eventually, though, something clicked.

Maybe I am out of my mind.

But I'm out of my mind on purpose.

Because the life I'm creating was never going to fit inside the limitations other people placed on me.

And I'm no longer interested in making my dreams smaller just so they sound more reasonable to someone else.

When Your Vision Makes Other People Uncomfortable

I've always been a dreamer.

Even when I was younger, I imagined a life that looked different from the one I was familiar with.

I wanted to travel.

Experience new places.

Build businesses.

Create opportunities.

Have financial freedom.

And most importantly, I wanted the ability to decide how I spent my time.

I never wanted to spend my entire life working toward someone else's definition of success.

But when you start talking about creating a life outside the traditional expectations, people have questions.

A lot of questions.

How are you going to afford that?

What if it doesn't work?

What about stability?

Why can't you just be happy with what you have?

And my personal favorite:

"Why don't you just get a regular job?"

As if I haven't already done that.

As if I haven't spent years working, going to school, raising children, and doing everything I was told would lead to a successful life.

I've worked in the federal government.

I've worked in mental health.

I've pursued higher education.

I've balanced full-time employment, full-time education, motherhood, and entrepreneurship.

I've done the traditional thing.

And I'm grateful for the experiences, education, and opportunities those chapters gave me.

But eventually, I realized something.

Just because you're capable of succeeding on a particular path doesn't mean it's the path you're supposed to spend your entire life following.

I wasn't unhappy because I lacked ambition.

I was unhappy because my ambitions had outgrown the life I was living.

I Did Everything I Was Supposed to Do

Growing up, we're taught that there's a formula for success.

Go to school.

Get good grades.

Go to college.

Earn a degree.

Find a stable career.

Work hard.

Pay your bills.

Save for retirement.

And eventually, if everything goes according to plan, you'll have created a successful life.

So that's what I did.

I followed the formula.

I worked hard.

I pursued an education.

I built a career.

I took on responsibilities.

And for years, I genuinely believed that if I kept checking the boxes, eventually I'd reach a point where everything felt right.

But here's what nobody really prepared me for.

You can do everything you're supposed to do and still feel like you're living the wrong life.

You can have a respectable career and still feel unfulfilled.

You can earn a decent income and still feel financially restricted.

You can accomplish things you're proud of and still wonder whether there's something more out there.

And you can spend so much time building the life you thought you wanted that you forget to ask yourself whether you actually enjoy living it.

That was the realization I kept coming back to.

I didn't want to spend the next thirty years waiting for weekends and vacation days.

I didn't want to miss moments with my daughters because my schedule belonged to someone else.

And I didn't want to look back one day and realize I'd spent my entire life being practical while ignoring the things that genuinely excited me.

So I started making changes.

Some small.

Some pretty fucking dramatic.

I quit jobs.

Started businesses.

Traveled.

Moved away from my hometown.

Explored opportunities I never would've discovered if I'd stayed comfortable.

And somewhere along the way, I realized that the traditional path wasn't necessarily wrong.

It just wasn't the only path available to me.

Sometimes Strangers Believe in You Before the People You Love

One of the most interesting things I've learned through entrepreneurship is that the people who believe in your vision aren't always the people who know you best.

Sometimes they're complete strangers.

You can spend hours explaining an idea to someone close to you.

You tell them about the business.

The products.

The services.

The long-term goals.

The opportunities you see.

And after all that explaining, they still look at you like you've lost your mind.

Meanwhile, someone you've never met finds your website and places an order.

Someone books your cleaning service.

Someone reaches out about a business opportunity.

Someone shares your content.

Someone recognizes the value in something you've created without needing an entire presentation about why you believe in it.

And suddenly, you realize something.

You don't need everyone to understand your vision. You need to connect with the people your vision is meant to serve.

I've had opportunities come from the most unexpected places.

Random conversations.

Business connections.

People who believed in something I was creating before it was fully developed.

And those experiences taught me that validation doesn't always come from where you expect it.

Sometimes the support you're waiting for is already out there.

You just haven't introduced yourself to the right people yet.

That doesn't mean every idea is guaranteed to succeed.

It means that someone else's doubt isn't enough evidence to abandon it.

And I've stopped treating it that way.

So, What Exactly Do You Do?

I used to hate this question.

Not because I was embarrassed about my work.

But because I genuinely didn't know how to answer without giving someone my entire life story.

"What do you do for work?"

Well...

I'm self-employed.

I own a cleaning business.

I create and sell products.

I work on branding, marketing, and business development.

I write.

I create content.

I explore new business opportunities.

I'm building multiple brands.

I'm a mother.

An entrepreneur.

A writer.

A creator.

And someone who has approximately seventeen business ideas before breakfast.

So, yeah.

It's a little difficult to fit all of that into one neat job title.

And for a while, I felt like I needed to explain everything I was working on so people would understand that I was actually doing something.

Because when you don't have a traditional job, people sometimes struggle to understand how you make money.

And when you have multiple businesses?

Apparently, that means you're doing too much.

Or you're all over the place.

Or you need to pick one thing and stick with it.

But here's the thing.

I don't want to spend my entire life doing one thing simply because it's easier for other people to understand.

I love creating.

I love learning.

I love building things from scratch.

And I genuinely enjoy discovering how different businesses and opportunities can work together.

That's part of who I am.

Now, does that mean every idea deserves my immediate attention?

Absolutely not.

That's something I've had to learn.

Because having a vision is one thing.

Actually executing it is another.

And I've realized that building multiple businesses requires more than enthusiasm.

It requires prioritization.

Systems.

Financial discipline.

Consistency.

And the ability to recognize when an idea needs to wait.

I'm still learning how to balance all of that.

But I'm not going to apologize for having more than one ambition.

I'm not confused about what I want. I'm learning how to build it.

My Dreams Were Never Just About Money

Let's talk about the $10,000 a month thing.

Because apparently, that's where some people really start questioning my sanity.

Yes.

I want to earn $10,000 a month.

And eventually, I want to earn significantly more than that.

Why wouldn't I?

Why would I intentionally limit my financial goals to an amount that simply covers my bills?

Why wouldn't I want to create enough income to invest, travel, build businesses, purchase property, and provide opportunities for my children?

But here's what I think people misunderstand.

The money has never been the entire point.

It's what the money represents.

Freedom.

Options.

Security.

Experiences.

The ability to spend my time doing things that actually matter to me.

I want to take my daughters on spontaneous adventures.

I want to travel without having to ask someone for time off.

I want to create businesses that eventually operate without requiring every hour of my day.

I want to invest in opportunities that can provide long-term stability.

And I want to be in a position where I can help other people create opportunities for themselves.

That's something I've become increasingly passionate about.

I don't want to build something that benefits only me.

I want to create businesses that can provide employment, support my community, and eventually help other people pursue their own entrepreneurial goals.

Because I know what it feels like to have a vision and limited resources.

And I know how much of a difference one opportunity can make.

So when I talk about wanting financial freedom, I'm not just talking about having more money in my bank account.

I'm talking about creating a life where money gives me more choices instead of constantly limiting them.

And I don't think there's anything unreasonable about wanting that.

The Truth About Having Big Dreams

Now, here's where I have to hold myself accountable.

Because having big dreams doesn't automatically make you successful.

And believing in yourself isn't a substitute for actually doing the work.

I can sit here and talk about owning multiple businesses.

Building an empire.

Traveling the world.

Making six figures.

Creating opportunities for other people.

But none of that means much if I'm not consistently taking steps toward those goals.

And I've had to learn that the hard way.

I'm naturally spontaneous.

I get excited about ideas.

I love the beginning stages of creating something new.

The possibilities.

The planning.

The branding.

The vision.

But the less exciting parts?

The repetitive tasks.

The follow-ups.

The bookkeeping.

The marketing.

The consistency required when the initial excitement wears off?

That's where the real work happens.

And that's where I've had to challenge myself.

Because I don't want to be someone who spends her entire life talking about what she's going to build.

I want to actually build it.

A big vision means nothing without the willingness to follow through.

And that means being honest about what's working.

Recognizing what's not.

Learning how to manage my time.

And understanding that I can't build everything at once.

Some opportunities need to be prioritized.

Some ideas need to be postponed.

And some things need to be abandoned altogether.

Not because I'm incapable of accomplishing them.

But because creating something meaningful requires focus.

That's not me lowering my expectations.

That's me becoming more intentional about how I achieve them.

I Don't Want to Be Realistic. I Want to Be Intentional.

I've always found it interesting when people tell me to be realistic.

Because realistic according to whom?

Someone who has never owned a business?

Someone who has never traveled outside their hometown?

Someone who has never considered a lifestyle different from the one they currently have?

Someone whose idea of success looks completely different from mine?

I don't think there's anything wrong with being practical.

In fact, I think practicality is incredibly important when you're making decisions that affect your finances, your children, and your future.

But I also think there's a difference between being practical and allowing fear to determine what's possible.

Being realistic means understanding the resources, risks, and work involved in pursuing a goal.

It doesn't mean automatically dismissing something because you've never personally experienced it.

I can acknowledge that building a business is difficult while still believing I'm capable of doing it.

I can recognize financial risks while still working toward financial independence.

I can understand that success isn't guaranteed while still being willing to try.

And I can have goals that seem ambitious to other people without pretending they'll happen overnight.

I don't need my dreams to be easy. I need them to be worth working toward.

And for me, they are.

Leaving My Hometown Changed the Way I Think

One of the biggest turning points in my life was leaving the place I'd always known.

Because when you grow up in the same environment for years, it's easy to believe that what you've experienced is all there is.

You become familiar with the same routines.

The same expectations.

The same conversations.

The same ideas about what life is supposed to look like.

And sometimes, without realizing it, you start measuring your own possibilities against the limitations of your environment.

Leaving my hometown changed that.

Traveling changed that.

Living in different places changed that.

I met people who lived completely different lifestyles.

People who worked for themselves.

People who created unconventional careers.

People who traveled frequently.

People who built businesses around their interests.

And people who simply approached life differently from what I'd grown up seeing.

Those experiences expanded my perspective.

They made me realize that there are countless ways to create a meaningful life.

And that I didn't have to follow a particular path simply because it was familiar.

I think that's one of the reasons I'm so passionate about encouraging people to experience new places.

Not because moving away automatically fixes your problems.

It doesn't.

I've learned that, too.

But because sometimes you need to see something different before you can imagine something different for yourself.

You can't pursue possibilities you don't even know exist.

And the more of the world I've experienced, the less interested I've become in allowing other people's expectations to define my future.

I'm Not Building a Business. I'm Building a Life.

This is probably the biggest difference between how I used to think and how I think now.

There was a time when I measured success primarily through accomplishments.

The degree.

The career.

The income.

The business.

The next milestone.

And while those things still matter to me, I've realized that I don't want to spend my entire life chasing accomplishments without enjoying the process.

I want to build businesses.

Absolutely.

I want to create financial independence.

I want to develop multiple income streams.

I want to accomplish things that once seemed impossible.

But I also want peaceful mornings.

Spontaneous beach days.

Time with my daughters.

The ability to explore new places.

Room to be creative.

And the freedom to change direction when something no longer aligns with the life I'm trying to create.

I don't want to build a business that makes me financially successful but leaves me too exhausted to enjoy my life.

I've already experienced what it feels like to work constantly.

I don't need to recreate that simply because I'm working for myself.

The goal is to create something sustainable.

Something meaningful.

Something that supports the kind of life I actually want to live.

And if that means my version of success looks different from someone else's?

I'm perfectly fine with that.

Because I'm not trying to build a life that looks impressive to everyone else. I'm trying to build one that feels fulfilling to me.

What I've Learned About Being Misunderstood

I've learned a few things from being the person with the unconventional ideas.

First, not everyone who questions your decisions is trying to discourage you.

Sometimes people are genuinely concerned.

Sometimes they're offering practical advice.

And sometimes they're pointing out risks you haven't fully considered.

I've learned that it's important to recognize the difference between someone who wants to help you make a better decision and someone who simply can't imagine you succeeding.

Those aren't the same thing.

I've also learned that confidence doesn't require constant explanation.

You don't have to defend every goal.

You don't have to announce every plan.

And you certainly don't have to convince everyone that you're capable of accomplishing something before you begin.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is quietly get to work.

Learn.

Experiment.

Make mistakes.

Adjust.

And allow your results to speak for themselves.

Because the truth is, some people still won't understand.

Even after you've accomplished the thing they told you was impossible.

And that's okay.

Your life doesn't need to make sense to everyone.

It needs to make sense to you.

Why I'm Sharing This Through Openly Curated

When I started Openly Curated, I wanted to create a space where I could share more than just the polished version of my life.

I wanted to document the experiences that shaped me.

The spontaneous decisions.

The places I've lived.

The businesses I've started.

The things I've learned about motherhood, personal growth, and creating a life outside traditional expectations.

But I also want to share the parts that aren't always easy to talk about.

The uncertainty.

The moments when I question myself.

The ideas that don't work out.

The lessons I learn from making decisions too quickly.

And the challenges of trying to build something meaningful while still figuring out exactly what that looks like.

Because I don't have everything figured out.

Not even close.

And I'm not interested in pretending that I do.

I'm still learning.

Still creating.

Still changing my mind.

Still figuring out how to turn some pretty ambitious ideas into something sustainable.

And still discovering what freedom actually means to me.

But that's the entire point of documenting this journey.

I don't want to wait until everything works out to tell the story.

I want to share what it looks like while I'm living it.

The good.

The bad.

The unexpected.

And the moments when I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing but decide to figure it out anyway.

Because sometimes the most meaningful stories aren't about people who had everything planned perfectly.

They're about people who were willing to try something different.

Final Thoughts: Call Me Crazy.

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can't spend your entire life waiting for other people to believe in your potential.

Some people will support you.

Some will question you.

Some will offer advice you didn't ask for.

And some will never understand why you want something different from what they would choose for themselves.

Let them.

You don't need everyone to agree with your goals.

You don't need permission to pursue something unconventional.

And you don't need to make your dreams smaller simply because someone else can't imagine accomplishing them.

But you do need to be willing to work for them.

To learn.

To make mistakes.

To hold yourself accountable.

And to keep showing up long after the excitement of starting something new has worn off.

Because dreaming is the easy part.

Building is where things get interesting.

So call me crazy.

Tell me I'm unrealistic.

Question my decisions.

Wonder what the hell I'm doing.

I'm not offended anymore.

I know my vision is ambitious.

I know I have a lot to learn.

And I know the life I'm trying to create isn't going to happen simply because I believe it should.

But I'm willing to do the work.

I'm willing to figure it out.

And I'm willing to take a path that doesn't make sense to everyone else.

Because at the end of the day, I'd rather spend my life pursuing something meaningful to me than wondering what could've happened if I'd been brave enough to try.

Maybe I am out of my mind.

But I'm out of my mind on purpose.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

With love,

Karma Dios

Openly Curated

Want to hear more about the experiences behind the decisions? Listen to the Openly Curated podcast, where I share the unfiltered stories of leaving my hometown, building businesses, starting over, motherhood, and learning to create a life on my own terms.