Why It’s Easier to Believe in Others’ Dreams Than Your Own

If a friend told you about their dream, you’d tell them to go for it. So why can’t you say the same thing to yourself?

It’s easier to believe in other people’s dreams than our own because we see theirs from the outside. When it’s someone else’s dream, we can see the whole picture: the idea, the person, and what’s possible. When it’s our own, we’re standing in the middle of it. The loudest voice in there isn’t anyone else’s. It’s ours, repeating the stories we’ve told ourselves for years about what we’re allowed to want and what we’re capable of.

A friend told me recently that she’d always wanted to write a children’s picture book. When I asked why she didn’t, she shrugged: “It seems silly. I can’t even draw. Who am I to write a picture book?” If I’d said that about myself, she would have encouraged me and meant every word. She just couldn’t say it to herself. Most of us can’t.

What is Solomon’s Paradox?

Psychologists have a name for this: Solomon’s Paradox. It’s named after King Solomon, who, according to legend, was the wise ruler everyone came to for advice, yet who couldn’t manage his own life. Researchers have found that we tend to reason more wisely about other people’s problems than about our own.

I think the same thing happens with our dreams. From the outside, I could see my friend’s dream without the lens of her internal story. She couldn’t.

Why we talk ourselves out of the things we really want

Not every idea is a dream worth chasing. Opening a bakery after a weekend of baking shows is usually a passing fancy that fizzles out. What I’m talking about is the deep-rooted desire, often from childhood, that keeps coming back. When it comes up, most of us have a line we say automatically. “I’m too old for that.” “That’s not really me.” “Maybe one day.” If you dig a little deeper, those lines usually reveal a story you’ve been telling yourself.

“It seems silly”: the belief that your wants have to be practical

The assumption under “silly” was that it’s childish for an adult with a serious career to want to write a children’s book, and that our wants have to be practical or productive before we’re allowed to pursue them. That’s a story, and you can test it. If it were silly for an adult to want to write a picture book, how would any picture book get written? Almost every one of them was written by an adult who wanted to write a picture book.

And if wants had to be practical, nobody would learn guitar or singing at 40 or 50 just for the joy of it. People do, and those are often the very things that make them feel alive.

“I can’t even draw”: when a reason is really evidence

This one sounds practical, and maybe it is. But reasons like this often aren’t what’s holding us back. They’re evidence we gather to support a story we’ve already decided is true.

If a lack of drawing skill were really the problem, the logical next question would be “Who could illustrate it?” Not “Who am I to do this?”

Hidden inside it is another assumption: that you have to do it all yourself, words and pictures. That’s a story too.

What talking myself out of it looked like for me

I grew up in a family of musicians who were basically prodigies. I sang on stage and in studios from a young age, but singing didn’t come naturally to me. I didn’t know what chest voice or head voice was, or how to navigate my vocal bridges, and I thought I should just know. The story I told myself was that I wasn’t as good as them, so I wasn’t worthy of the spotlight. No one ever said that to me; my inner critic decided it. That story is why I gave up music for about five years.

When a chance came to step back in as a vocal coach, my first response was: “I quit singing. Who am I to do this?” But I was in a job I knew I’d eventually leave, so I asked a simpler question: what have I got to lose? Enrolling in that coaching program was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, though I can only say that in hindsight.

My version of my friend’s story was that to be in music, I had to be a singer, and a flawless one. Neither was true. Giving myself permission to explore got me through the door.

Why a dream that keeps coming back deserves room

I believe we’re each born with a unique combination of gifts that are meant to be shared, and that a strong desire comes to you for a reason. Not everyone feels the pull to write a picture book or learn to sing.

If yours keeps calling you, the useful question isn’t whether you’re allowed to want it. It’s how to make room for it in the busy life you already have. And it may not have to look the way you first imagined.

How the voice in your head shows up in the voice you speak with

In 18 years of coaching voices, one of the biggest things I’ve learned is that your voice is a readout of your internal experience. When the voice inside says “You can’t do that,” it affects how your external voice takes up space. It might get softer or trail off, or you might find yourself pushing and straining to be heard.

If your dream involves putting yourself out there, whether that’s speaking, teaching, pitching, or sharing your work, your voice will play a major part in how you get there.

3 questions to make room for your dream in the life you already have

1. What would you tell a friend?

Imagine a friend came to you with your exact dream and your exact life, packed calendar included, saying “I just don’t see how I can.” You wouldn’t tell them to forget it. You’d get practical. “Could you do it on weekends? Who could help you with this part?” That’s Solomon’s Paradox working for you instead of against you. Write down what you’d say to your friend, then read it back to yourself.

2. What’s the heart of this dream, and what shape could it take right now?

For my friend, the heart of it might be the joy of telling stories, or creating something for children. Once you know the heart, the dream can take more than one shape: one short story for a niece or nephew, a read-aloud at the local library, a blog under a pen name. Each lets her experience what draws her, without having to become a published author first.

List a few options. Then notice how each one feels in your body when you imagine doing it. Start with the ones that feel open and expansive.

3. What’s the smallest step you could take today or this week?

Even the biggest dream feels more doable when you break it down to its first step. It could be as simple as buying a notebook just for ideas and writing one line in it every day.

Change the question from “How could I possibly do this?” to “If I were to do this, what’s one thing I could do today?” The first question sends you looking for reasons you can’t. The second sends you looking for ways you can.

Turn the encouraging voice toward yourself

You already know how to be the encouraging voice for someone else. The invitation is to turn that same voice toward yourself.

Free masterclass: Awaken Your Power Voice. If your dream involves speaking up, leading, pitching, or sharing your work, this free class teaches three practical techniques to project your voice with authority and confidence, without straining and without sounding like someone you’re not. You’ll also see how the stories you tell yourself show up in the way you sound. Sign up free at krystaldiaz.com/voice

Listen / Watch links

EPISODE CHAPTERS

  • 00:00 The dream you keep talking yourself out of
  • 02:20 Welcome to the Resonate Podcast
  • 02:50 Solomon’s Paradox: why other people’s dreams look clearer
  • 03:50 “It seems silly”: the story about what adults are allowed to want
  • 05:08 “I can’t even draw”: when a reason is really evidence
  • 06:23 My story: quitting music and “Who am I to do this?”
  • 08:55 What changed: giving myself permission to explore
  • 10:04 Why a dream that keeps calling you is worth making room for
  • 10:57 Free masterclass: Awaken Your Power Voice
  • 12:36 Question 1: What would you tell a friend?
  • 13:14 Question 2: What’s the heart of the dream?
  • 14:26 Question 3: What’s the smallest step?
  • 14:58 Turning the encouraging voice toward yourself