Can you chase big dreams with chronic illness? It’s a question I’ve wrestled with more times than I can count. When your body has its own agenda—pain flaring, fatigue rolling in without warning—it’s easy to believe your dreams don’t get to matter anymore. But illness doesn’t erase purpose. It may change the pace, it may change the path, but your dreams still have a future.
I’ve had a lot of jobs and a lot of dreams. As a little girl, I wanted to be everything from a ballerina to a Broadway singer. Later, I became a teacher and thought I’d found my lane. But when my health made it impossible to keep teaching, I wondered if there was anything left I could do—not just to keep my mind busy, but to help my family too.
Years earlier, God had given me a vision: one day I would speak to thousands of women. I tucked that dream away because it felt impossible. I was nervous enough standing in front of a classroom, much less a crowd. Yet here I am now, speaking to women all over the world through my podcast. The very thing that felt out of reach has become part of my reality—not in spite of my chronic illness, but in many ways because of it.
Redefining what “Big” Looks Like
Our dreams and desires shift as we grow. Sometimes they transform into new ones. Sometimes they need to be broken into smaller steps, taken at a slower pace. Either way, dreams can still unfold. And when the path looks different than we imagined, it may be less about abandoning the dream and more about adjusting how we walk it out.
So how do we begin to follow our dreams when our everyday life is so unpredictable?
The Myth That Illness Cancels Dreams
One of the biggest lies chronic illness whispers is, “You don’t get to dream anymore.” The unpredictability of symptoms makes planning feel impossible, and comparison to healthier people can make us feel like our goals are out of reach. But here’s the truth: illness might limit how we move forward, but it doesn’t mean the dream itself is off the table.
Think about it this way—if someone told you that you could only walk instead of run, would you stop heading toward your destination altogether? Probably not. You’d move slower, sure, but you’d still get there eventually. Dreams are the same. The pace may change, but the path isn’t closed.
Redefining What “Big” Looks Like
Sometimes chasing big dreams with chronic illness means rethinking what “big” even means. Maybe it’s not the flashy, all-at-once achievement you once pictured. Maybe it’s building something small, steady, and deeply meaningful.
For me, “big” used to mean a traditional career—teaching full-time, climbing the ladder, doing all the things everyone around me seemed to be doing. Now, “big” looks like recording one podcast episode a week, sending out a newsletter, and showing up consistently for women who feel unseen. It’s not Broadway or a classroom full of students. But it is impact. It is purpose.
Your version of “big” might be starting a business from your couch, raising your kids with love and creativity even on flare days, or writing a book one paragraph at a time. “Big” doesn’t have to mean fast, loud, or public—it means faithful, aligned, and true to you.
When we let go of what culture tells us dreams should look like, we can start to see that our unique pace and path aren’t less than—they’re just different.
Building Flexible Pathways to Your Goals
When you live with chronic illness, you can’t always bulldoze your way through obstacles the way hustle culture tells you to. What you can do is build flexible pathways—ways forward that bend and shift with your energy, instead of breaking under the weight of it.
Here are a few ways to do that:
- Break it down smaller than you think. If your dream is to write a book, don’t start with a word count goal. Start with one paragraph, one page, or even one sentence on flare days. Little pieces add up.
- Build margin into your plans. Expect setbacks. If you think something will take a month, give yourself three. That way, when life or your body interrupts, you don’t feel like you’ve failed.
- Work with your rhythms, not against them. Pay attention to when your energy tends to be highest—morning, afternoon, or late evening—and reserve that time for dream-chasing instead of chores.
- Celebrate micro-wins. Every step counts. Marking small progress helps you see movement even when the finish line feels far away.
Flexibility doesn’t mean lowering the bar; it means creating a path that’s actually walkable for you. Your dreams deserve that kind of care.
When Rest Feels Like a Roadblock
Rest is one of the hardest parts of chasing dreams with chronic illness. It can feel like every nap, every day spent in bed, every moment you have to stop is stealing time away from your goals. The world tells us rest is wasted time—but with chronic illness, rest is survival.
Here’s the shift: instead of seeing rest as the enemy of your dreams, see it as the fuel that makes them possible. Muscles rebuild in rest. Minds reset in rest. Even faith deepens in the stillness.
Yes, it’s frustrating. Yes, it feels like you’re falling behind while everyone else is sprinting ahead. But your path isn’t measured by their pace. Rest is part of the work—not a detour from it.
Sometimes the most radical way you can chase your dreams is by laying them down for a moment, trusting they’ll still be there when you’re ready to pick them back up.
The Hope Factor: Why Dreams Still Matter
Dreams aren’t just about achievement—they’re about hope. They remind us there’s more to life than symptoms, appointments, and survival. Even when illness changes the way we live, holding onto our dreams gives us something bigger to reach toward.
For me, it’s not just about having a podcast or a platform. It’s about the reminder that God still has purpose for me, even on days when my body feels broken. That vision He gave me years ago continues to push me forward, one step at a time.
Your dream—no matter how small it feels right now—matters. It keeps you connected to possibility, to identity, and to the reminder that you’re more than your diagnosis. And sometimes, that hope is the very thing that carries you through the hardest days.
So don’t throw your dreams away. Hold them with open hands. Let them change shape, let them take longer, let them grow slow. But let them live. Because chasing big dreams with chronic illness isn’t about proving the world wrong—it’s about proving to yourself that life can still hold meaning, joy, and possibility.