Dreams and Now
Dreams, Relationships, and Who You Really Are Right Now
This is the 3rd and final post in The Dragon Dream 3-post Series.
" Then someone shouted, “It’s coming back!”
This time I was already at the rail.
The dragon glided back under the bridge toward the open ocean, that long, powerful body sliding through the water as if the water itself wanted to move for it. Time slowed. I didn’t feel fear. I felt joy… and something like awe.
When it disappeared into the ocean, I didn’t feel disappointed. I felt complete.
I turned toward the mainland. It felt like going home.
And then I woke up." [Excerpt from Post 1 WHEN YOUR DREAMS WON'T LET YOU IGNORE YOURSELF posted on March 3rd]
The vividness of the dream led me to research the dream in detail and write this three-post series. In this final post, I will examine where I am right now.
Let’s talk about something quietly common and deeply uncomfortable: how often we fall in love with a dream of a relationship rather than the reality in front of us.
If you’ve ever looked back and thought, “I think I was in love with the idea of them,” you already understand this territory.
Dreams wander there whether we invite them or not.
Dreamy relationships vs. being awake
In waking life, it’s easy to build a story:
They’ll finally understand me.
We’re perfect together; we just need time.
This must be fate.
Sometimes those stories are true. Sometimes they’re hope wearing optimism’s clothing.
Then you sleep, and your mind tells a different version.
You may dream of distance, silence, separation, or finally speaking the truth you can’t say while awake.
These dreams don’t exist to shame you. They show what you already know somewhere deeper.
In my dragon dream, no partner rescued me. No one explained the meaning. I was surrounded by people, but ultimately it was me at the rail, watching the water, turning toward home.
I believe that’s closer to how healthy love works:
You aren’t rescued.
You aren’t completed.
You’re accompanied.
What dreams can reveal about you in love
Over time, patterns emerge:
Are you chasing or being chased?
Are you visible or fading?
Are you beside someone, behind them, or outside the scene?
These images often reflect how you see yourself, not just your partner.
For someone like me — hopeful but seasoned — dreams can be brutally honest. They exaggerate patterns I’d rather ignore. And sometimes they show a stronger version of me than I fully trust yet.
The dragon wasn’t a partner. It wasn’t an enemy.
It was something in me — something capable of chasing fear instead of being chased by it.
And that matters in relationships.
Sad or frightening relationship dreams
Breakup dreams. Betrayal dreams. Old loves appearing fine without you.
They can wreck a morning.
But they’re rarely about the other person alone. Often, they reveal fears about worth, abandonment, or unfinished grief.
Painful, yes. But also clarifying.
Back to the bridge
I stood at the rail as the dragon chased the shark back into the ocean. The first time, I felt like I’d missed something. The second time, I was ready. Present.
Then I turned toward the mainland — toward home — and everything felt quiet.
You have your own bridge.
Between who you’ve been in love and who you’re becoming.
Between the story you tell and the one that’s truer.
Dreams can’t cross it for you. But they can nudge you to look.
If you want a gentle place to begin:
Write down a relationship-related dream.
Ask yourself: What does this say about how I see myself in love right now?
Not about them. About you.
You may not like everything you find. I haven’t.
But somewhere in all of it is a version of you who is more awake, more honest, and more capable than you realize.
That may be who your dreams are trying to introduce you to.
And if a purple dragon appears along the way, I’d take that as a promising sign.