I don’t just dream small dreams.
I dream in acres.
I see land stretching wide under an open sky.. quiet, steady, safe. Not flashy. Not loud. Just peaceful. The kind of place where the wind moves through tall grass and nothing feels rushed.
One day, I will own land.
There will be a wooden sign at the entrance. Maybe weathered. Maybe simple. And behind it.. dogs. Not cages and chaos, but space. Room to decompress. Room to heal. The kind of rescue I wish every frightened soul could land in. A place where broken dogs aren’t rushed into being “adoptable.” They’re allowed to just be.
I already know how to do this. I do it now in small ways.. building trust, walking the shy ones, celebrating the adoptions even when my heart aches. One day I’ll just be doing it on my own soil.
There will be a small farmhouse. Not huge. Not perfect. But warm. Light in the kitchen window. Mud on the boots by the door. Fur on the floors. Coffee early in the morning before feeding rounds. Maybe 5 acres. Maybe more. Enough for a barn. Enough for quiet.
And there will be a garden. Rows of tomatoes. Basil. Lavender. Sunflowers taller than me. Something grounding about planting things and watching them grow. I want dirt under my nails and peace in my chest.
And I want a partner.
Not a fantasy. Not fireworks without foundation. Just a man who sees me. All of me. The sober me. The healing me. The driven me. The soft me. The intense Scorpio heart that feels everything deeply. He won’t be perfect. I don’t need perfect.
I need willing.
I need honest.
I need raw.
A man who has done his own work. Who isn’t afraid of depth. Who can sit on the porch after a long day of tending dogs and just exist beside me. Comfortable in silence. Comfortable in truth.
We won’t rescue each other. We’ll build beside each other.
Simple dinners. Tired hands. Dogs asleep at our feet. Arguments handled with repair, not escape. Laughter in the barn. Quiet at night. A life that feels earned.
I don’t crave chaos anymore. I crave land. I crave steadiness. I crave roots.
This dream doesn’t feel delusional. It feels inevitable.
Because I am already becoming the woman who could hold it. 
