Women Who Dream- Daydream Believer

First Edition

Copyright © 2022 Kate Butler Books

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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web—without permission in writing from the publisher.

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This book is dedicated to you. We see you, we feel you, we relate to you, and we connect with you, because . . . we are you. At the core we are more alike than we are different. We are beings of light and love who deeply desire to make a positive influence in the world with our unique type of brilliance. The pages of this book promise to fill you with the wisdom, insights, and inspiration that will align you further with your soul’s path. Our hope is that the vulnerability and authenticity of these stories will remind you deeply of who you are and inspire you to rise up and shine your light in the world.

It is your time. It is our time. It is time.

Table of Contents

Daydream Believer

Addy M. Kujawa, CAE, DES

Introduction

Kate Butler

You Are Worthy

Tracey Watts Cirino

Living My Dream Through the Fear

Ellen M. Craine

This is Not How My Story Ends

Christina Macro

No More Hiding

Melissa Malland

It Starts With Trust

Sue Meitner

Harness the Power of Your Dreams and Live Free . . . By Design

Ellie D. Shefi

God-Sized Dream

Candice Shepard

Dreams for Generations

Linda Yang

The Magic of Your Inner Temple

Amalai

Self-Designed Dreams

Teri P. Cox, MBA

Two Choices

Lori Anne De Iulio Casdia

Trust Your Truth

Keri Gavin

Your Heart Knows the Way

Mary Gervais

Once Upon a Time

Tiffany Donovan Green

Reclaiming Wonder

Linda Gonzalez

There is Money in Your Closet

Erin Bonner Hudyma

Listen to the Lifeguard

Erin McCahill

From Fear to Love

Laura Mount

How Do You Grand?

Suzette Perez-Tate

This is Not as Good as it Gets

Tracy Richards

Take Your Center Stage

Cori Solomon Santone

Transformational: Love, Letters, Poetry, and Art

Ericha Scott, PhD

The Photo Album

Abby Steurer

Planting the Seeds of Passion

Teja Valentin

Dream of the Fatherless

Jennifer Weaver

The Little Barn That Could

Michele Gambone

Soul Answers

Lauren Oberly

Unseen

Dawn Schimke

From Wishes to Dreams

Bobbie Jo Yarbrough

Reprinted with Permissions

Daydream Believer

Addy M. Kujawa, CAE, DES

To achieve your dreams, work is required. Suffering is optional.

—Jack Canfield

I grew up in a small, small town. The same town my parents, and their parents, had lived their entire lives. I dreamed of leaving and living in some far-off, distant place. I wanted to be rich and live big and large and loud, and I knew that wasn’t going to happen in my little town in Wisconsin.

It was a beautiful, sunny, summer day, and my mom and I were going garage-saleing! I was excited because we were looking for new clothes for my new middle school. I had to move schools, and I was leaving my good friends behind, but it was all right because they were all just a short walk away. The new school was bigger and had art and band and even a real wood shop. I was going to take classes to learn how to cook and bake and sew and make notepads, and I was so excited. We found a beautiful blue dress with flowers and ruffles along with a few other things, and we headed home. I was happy and ready.

Standing at my locker on my first day, I fumbled with the combination. It was the first time I’d had to use a locker, and I was worried I was going to be late to my first class. I looked around to see kids heading to classes.

To my left, there was a beautiful blonde girl watching me. I smiled quickly and got back to my locker. I heard her call out to me, so I turned to look at her again. She said, Hey, where’d you get that dress anyway?

Immediate panic. I was not going to tell her I got it at a garage sale. Penney’s! I shouted.

She stared at me. Her head tilted and her arms crossed and a smile slowly crept across her face, and she said, Oh, I don’t think so. I think you got that at my garage sale.

And I was crushed. Mortified. Why did I say anything at all? What an idiot! And of course, of course, she had to call me out. Why am I so stupid? Why do I have to be here? I want to go back to my old school. At least everyone there knew what was going on. They knew my family’s situation. I went about my day and noticed stares and whispers and laughter. How did everyone hear about it so quickly? There’s nothing I could do. I had to keep going, walking through long hallways and sitting through even longer classes. I set my jaw, feeling naked and embarrassed and like I just wanted to hide.

That winter, I was walking home from school one day, and I was so cold and my backpack was so heavy, and on top of that, I was lugging my tenor saxophone home for practice. I walked looking down at the ground for the most part, occasionally looking up when crossing streets. As I crossed the next street, I saw in the distance a thin figure all dressed in black standing at the bus stop. I had a moment to decide whether I was going to turn left or continue on my way which would take me right past him. I looked to my left, and it’s uphill. I couldn’t do it. I was already loaded down and so tired. I kept going. I thought it would be fine.

As I got closer, I saw he was watching me. And as I got closer, he just kept watching me. Do I turn around? I couldn’t get any distance because of the snow piled along the sidewalk. I kept going. Trudging. He started to make comments. Hey, pretty girl. Hey, girlie, whatchyou carrying? You look nice. Wanna keep me company? I kept going. Why is it taking so long? Why can’t my legs move any faster?

And then I heard it. The worst sound in the world. His throat scraped and then he was spitting, and I felt it land in my hair with a soft but weighty thump. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. He. Spit. In. My. Hair. What do I do? What can I do? I kept going. I hunched over further, hunkering down into my coat even more, hiding as best I could. Keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going. I was so angry and so hurt and the tears streaming down my face froze in place and I felt all alone.

Left. Right. Left. Right. And he was hollering at me, but he wasn’t coming after me and that’s all I cared about. I kept going and eventually I got home. My mom was furious. She wanted to kill him. I just wanted it out of my hair. It was frozen and I didn’t want to touch it. I headed to the kitchen, dropping things as I went until I could lean my head into the kitchen sink and run warm water through my hair and keep running warm water until I felt certain it wasn’t there anymore and I could scrub and scrub it out. It’s so gross. I’m so gross. Of course I deserve this. I was bottom of the barrel at my new school. I was the odd duck.

Feelings of worthlessness, fear, loneliness, and desperation for external validation began there and followed me.

The next summer my family went on a trip to Chicago with my aunt and uncle and their kids. We visited a restaurant . . . Ed Debevic’s. That was a magical experience for me. Why? Well, at this particular restaurant, the wait staff are rude. Like, really rude. Throwing straws, snarky comments, smart-ass replies to questions. As a kid, to see my parents and my aunts and uncles talked to that way was shocking! And funny! And then, at one point, the entire wait staff got up on all the countertops and the ledges between the seating areas and rocked out—dancing to a song. The entire restaurant was engaged in the performance, and in that moment, I knew I was going to live there one day. People that lived here lived the way they wanted to; they talked the way they wanted to. At that age, I imagined everyone in Chicago must be like this and so that became my dream. To live in Chicago and be free.

I went back home, went to school, graduated, and got married. I agreed to move to an even smaller town if we would eventually move to a bigger city. After four years and still no move, among other things, we parted ways. I took a year to get myself back to rights, and then I made my first big leap. The first time I really felt like I was showing up for myself, and I was going to do what I wanted to do, and nobody was going to tell me otherwise or get in my way.

I had a month to get everything squared away to attend the University of Madison. Due to my divorce and my own fears and embarrassment, I couldn’t get the financial aid to work out. With the prospect of college dwindling and the rent coming due, I applied at all the temp agencies I could find and took any job I could fit into my schedule. My sister suggested a part-time job at her favorite restaurant, Noodles and Company, if they offered free meals to employees like many restaurants did. I applied and began as a busser so I could eat. She was right, a free meal every shift! I worked really hard, and was eventually promoted to manager, and was able to quit my other temporary jobs. Except for Kohl’s—the deals on clothes and shoes I was privy to while working returns at the service counter were too good to pass up, so I continued to pick up shifts there.

I worked six days a week at the restaurant, and they were long shifts. I hired so many college kids. I fired someone for the first time and the second time. I caught kids drinking on the job. I started smoking just to get a break. I picked up shifts at the other restaurant that was downtown. I scrubbed the ins and outs of freezers and storage lofts and disgusting coolers. I mopped floors and plunged toilets. I opened up the restaurant so the grease traps could be emptied. That smell sticks with you; it is beyond anything I had ever experienced up until that time—and I grew up in farm country.

I loved working in the restaurant industry. After about two years, one of my best team members and friend told me she had been offered a job in college after graduation. I bemoaned the fact that I would never get there, sad to be left behind, and she blithely responded with Why don’t you come along? I could use a roommate!

I canceled my lease and moved in with another friend to finish out my notice. While apartment hunting in Chicago, we found an absolutely perfect unit in a building on the north side. Close to the lake, on the rooftop level with a pool, outdoor access, two bedrooms, and our own patio. Located just a couple blocks from the L, it was convenient to most anywhere in the city. We put down a deposit, and moving day was set.

I applied to temp agencies and restaurants. The first place I applied? Ed Debevic’s of course! I was brought in for two interviews but didn’t get the job. Devastating at the time. I was eventually offered an administrative assistant position with a nonprofit and I grabbed it. It wasn’t what I wanted at all—the role, the salary, or the location. But it would pay the bills, and I would be able to eat, barely, so I took it.

I had a demanding, visionary boss and a huge workload. I loved what I was doing though. I worked hard. Between being afraid of disappointing or upsetting my boss and wanting and needing validation and the thrill of success, I would sometimes go in at 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning and work all the way through until 5:00 or 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday. Through the night, yes. Exhausted, I would go home and sleep, just to repeat that for Wednesday and Thursday. I knew most of the security guards from arriving early morning, leaving so late at night, and all my weekend treks into the building. I was driven and passionate and wanted more. I was in the Big City, but barely making ends meet.

After several years and two promotions, my manager was let go. I was already helping out with those responsibilities and helped write the position description for a new hire. Handing in the finished document, the head of the department said to me, Don’t even think about going up for this job. The CEO will never consider you because you don’t have a degree. I hadn’t actually even considered going up for it, so I was completely blindsided. I turned around, embarrassed, and walked out. During my commute home that evening, my face was hot, tears flowed, and I struggled to shake the embarrassment. Those feelings evolved into frustration, and then anger. Suddenly I was yelling to myself, Why not me?! I’m already doing a lot of it! I am so good enough!

At home that night, I opened up my laptop and updated my cover letter and resume to match the position description I had finished earlier that day, and I submitted it to HR. I was sick with anxiety for days, but then my boss interviewed me. And then, I got the job! I continued to work hard and had the longest tenure in the department.

I always had of goal of making, and then continuing to make, twice my age in salary, so when I was thirty, I wanted to be making $60,000 and so on. I was getting close to that not happening, and I knew that any further promotions or career moves would require a bachelor’s degree. I had been told often that the manager role I had earned was the last one I would be able to get based on experience only. I had earned my associate’s after high school but had opted out of any further education at that time to get into the workforce as quickly as possible. I had taken a class here and there as I could but was still a year and a half away from fulfilling the credits I needed. It was always in the back of my mind, and then I had my first baby, and then my second.

Home with my second baby, on maternity leave, I decided now was the time to jump back into my degree and get it done. I’m not sure why I expected to have extra time while on maternity leave considering I hadn’t had any with my first baby and I could only take seven weeks. I got it in my mind though, and so I filed all the paperwork and started classes.

I took class after class after class with very few breaks to finish as quickly as possible. I did finish and began applying for my next big role: my first lead staff position! I was terrified but determined. I interviewed for many roles and lost many roles. Eventually though, I was offered the lead role for an organization that had three staff, and I was absolutely thrilled. I’ve been there for twelve extremely rewarding years.

I think back to that young girl often with her big dream and her struggle with her self-worth. A short story allows for only so much to be shared, and I shared two of my most poignant memories out of hundreds that took a toll on me growing up. Just as you have many, I’m sure. All the things that happen in a person’s life and the things you have overcome to be where you are. They matter and they are meaningful. And I also feel strongly that while they are meaningful, your past absolutely does not dictate your future.

Whatever dream you are dreaming, let it bloom and blossom in your heart and soul. Napoleon Hill said in his book, Whatever your mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve.¹ Your mind. Not your mom’s or your dad’s or your sister’s or your wife’s or your husband’s mind. Yours. You are the most important component of that sentence. It doesn’t matter what others think or how they feel. It only matters what you believe and think and feel. Believe in you and your dream and work for it. Make them come true. That’s what I did. And so can you.

Make a conscious effort to surround yourself with positive, nourishing, and uplifting people—people who believe in you, encourage you to go after your dreams, and applaud your victories. —Jack Canfield

1—Napoleon Hill, Think and Grow Rich (Meriden, Connecticut: The Ralston Society, 1937)

ABOUT ADDY M. KUJAWA, CAE, DES

With over twenty years of executive leadership for professional associations and organizations, Addy is today the CEO of the American Alliance of Orthopedic Executives as well as The Radical Change Group. She is a certified Jack Canfield Success Principles trainer, certified association executive, and certified digital event strategist.

In addition to her job, she has been a frequent speaker presenting on a variety of topics including personal branding, strategic planning, how to sell, how to negotiate, creating your true life destination roadmap, getting from where you are to where you want to be, goal setting that actually works, and much more.

She considers herself a personal and professional development junkie, constantly learning and trying new things.

Addy, as a consummate cheerleader and creator of safe places, has a life purpose to share with others her transformation of her life’s events, from tragic and tragedy to appreciation and fulfillment, in hopes of inspiring and motivating them to see new possibilities and to believe in pursuing their own dreams.

To book Addy as a speaker or to work with her, you can contact her directly using the information below.

Web: theradicalchangegroup.com

Email: addykujawa@theradicalchangegroup.com

Mobile: 847-624-2339

Facebook: TheRadicalChangeGroup

Instagram: @theradicalchangegroup

Introduction

Kate Butler

I was being interviewed for a podcast last week and the host asked me, Did everyone in your life think you were crazy when you walked away from a successful company you built to pursue your dream?

I said, Yes. Until it worked.

***

I always knew I would do something with writing because expressing myself through words always came innately to me. It was not completely out of the question to believe I would write a book one day, although I did not think I would write twelve international best sellers and go on to publish over 400 #1 best-selling authors as well. This is still, in many ways, shocking to say.

I was thirty years old running a business from my home, based on what I had done in corporate. It made great money. I also got to be home with our children. And I was bored out of my freaking mind. I had an awareness one day that I was selling myself short, that I was not put here to run a staffing and recruiting business, that I was meant for more and I was being called to do more. And here’s the thing about awareness . . . once you know it, you can’t unknow it.

If I was going to scrap this business, if I was going to do it all again, if I was going to build an actual dream . . . I was going to do it differently.

When I was working in a business that was out of alignment with my purpose, it always felt like there was something missing, like I could never do enough, like I always had to push to make more happen.

It was constant pressure . . .

What do I need to do this week?

What needs to happen to meet goals this month?

What do I have to do to complete this project?

What does this client need from me now?

Each week, month, quarter, and year, it seemed like a heaviness clouded over me of goals that needed to be achieved and I needed to make happen, but when the goals were met, there was only brief satisfaction. There was never a lightness. It always felt like I was carrying bricks in a backpack and pushing a bolder up a hill. It always felt like no matter what goals were met, I always needed to make more happen. It didn’t bring me happiness. It just made me money. It wasn’t fulfilling, it just felt like it was what I had to do.

What if I could have both? What if I created from that place?

I was going to build something that ignited a fire inside my belly every time I opened my email. I was going to create something that others wanted to be part of. I was going to start a movement that had me jumping out of bed in the morning. I was going to create a life I was madly in love with.

I wanted to feel like I get to do this each day, not like I have to.

And as soon as I decided this, my next thought was, but how? And then, who are you to create this empire that you long for?

So I had to decide at that moment: which one?

Which one is it going to be, Kate?

Are you going to choose what you’ve always known? Or are you going to choose the forest with no path, no trails, and no map? Which one?

If you know me, you know I am not much for camping, or forests, or woods. But this was different. This forest was enchanted. I could just feel it.

I shared with you earlier that an awareness revealed itself to me. And once you know, you can never unknow it. And so, I knew, I knew that although it did not appear that there was a trail or a path or a guide or a map . . . I had this knowing that I WAS THE MAP. I realized I was born knowing the way. I had a deep knowing that I had everything I needed within myself and I always had.

And with this knowing, I then began to ask, so if I have everything I need . . . then why am I waiting for others to give me the green light on my dreams? Why would I let a publisher decide if my story is good enough to tell? Why would I wait for someone to ask me to speak at their event to share my message? Why am I waiting for someone else to give me the opportunity? Why not just create them myself?

And so I did.

I got into action.

The first thing I did was get clear. And I got clear by getting quiet and by getting that pencil to paper.

I asked myself these questions over and over:

What if I stopped waiting to be picked and I picked myself?

What if I stopped waiting for someone else to invite me to their stage and I built my own?

What if I unsubscribed to gatekeepers and just created my own opportunities?

What would that world look like?

I reminded myself it’s right now that we get to taste the coffee and bite into pizza and dive into the water and bake the cookies and hold the hand and feel the sand and bask in the sun and walk in the grass and hike the arch and feel the belly laugh and see the smile of delight and give the kisses goodnight. It’s only right now. And even if we have hundreds or thousands of years left, it still won’t be enough. Because once we don’t have these miracles anymore, we will know, we will know, that when we were here, we had everything.

The universe had shown me very clearly there was one thing I did not want to be: the person waiting. Because the people who played the waiting game always lost.

So it was time. It was time to dream the dream now. It was time to go for it, to have the journey and allow my God-given map to guide me down my path.

And once I decided, it began to unfold.

The idea for my first children’s book came through me, and I felt it right down to my bones. We were on vacation in Aruba, and while sitting on the beach, it all just downloaded. I am not sure where my phone was, but I remember frantically asking my family, Does anyone have a paper? A pen? I need to write something down right now! Aunt Penny was back in a flash with a little mini composite book and a pen, which I still have, and I wrote down the entire story of More Than Mud right there in that moment.

I had decided I was going to create my dream. My dream was to inspire others to live the life they were meant for. I decided that meant starting with children, my children, my two girls. I wanted to write a book for them, a guide, on how to live a limitless life, but in a language that children could understand. I got into action, and I did this by getting still every morning and connecting into my higher power, and I also did this by journaling each day. And once I got into motion, the rest came. It poured out of me onto the pages. Right there on that beach. And that book went on to be a #1 best-selling book and stayed on the best-seller list for over 100 weeks straight.

This was an opening. I knew it, I felt it, I received it, and I went for it. We must be ready to walk through the openings when they come.

My next children’s book was imagined by my daughter Bella when we were on vacation in Florida. She saw what a phenomenal journey it was to create More Than Mud, and she had a dream of creating something too. So she began to bounce ideas around. And then this one day, it was all there, it all came together, and we had our second book. Another divine download, just like the first one, right there in that pool in Ft. Lauderdale. More Than Magic was created and at five years old, my daughter Bella became a #1 best-selling author—since the story, after all, was hers.

My daughter Livie is now involved in the writing and illustrations of our books. She started with her first #1 best-seller, Believe