A long, thoughtful Tuesday filled with work, motherhood, and a car conversation about the difference between dreams and expectations.
Sometimes we think we’re chasing a dream, when in truth, we’re just trying to meet someone’s expectation, often our own. — Nuniek Tirta Sari
Today was one of those days that stretched from sunrise to starlight: full, messy, meaningful. The kind of day that leaves you tired but not empty. I woke up already feeling the pace of it. Meetings, errands, mentoring sessions, renovation plans, traffic. A marathon disguised as Tuesday.
My husband started his morning with his team, while I catch up with Mbak Tri Wahyuni, the wife of Ogy, one of his teammates. She’s the kind of woman I instantly feel at ease with: warm, grounded, with that rare blend of ambition and introspection. We talked about parenting and education, a topic that could easily last for days if you put two reflective moms in one room.
We compared stories of raising kids with totally different personalities. You know that feeling when one child seems to live in their own galaxy, while the other thrives on structure and certainty? It’s like being a translator between planets; loving both, understanding each in their own language. We shared about finding the right schools, not just the best ones, because what’s right for one child can be wrong for another. I love these kinds of talks; honest, layered, grounded in the mess of real life. We plan to continue next time with “Property and Investment” soon 🙂
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| Mba Tri Wahyuni and Me |
By noon, I shifted roles. From mother and philosopher to mentor and strategist. We met Sean and Juan, founders of Bisnesia, to discuss a potential new business unit. The kind that makes you quietly excited because the idea feels both ambitious and doable. I can’t reveal too much yet (not because I’m mysterious, but because the startup world can be a little too inspired by each other, haha). In between discussing business models and future prospects, Juan and I somehow veered into a conversation about Indonesian conglomerates. I listened, curious as always, because people’s behind-the-scenes stories often reveal more about how the world works than any book ever could.
After the meeting, hunger kicked in. We made a quick stop at Subway, because nothing screams “entrepreneur life” like eating a half sandwich in the car between appointments. Luckily, there was a 50% discount promo for BCA Visa Tap cards. I mean, half off for just tapping your card? That’s the kind of small victory that keeps capitalism fun.
On the way to Bekasi afterward, my husband and I had one of those unexpected, deep conversations that seem to appear out of nowhere, maybe because long drives invite introspection. We talked about the difference between dreams and expectations.
We realized that many disappointments in life come not because our dreams failed, but because our expectations did. And sometimes we don’t even know which one we’re holding onto.
Dreams inspire hope. Expectations demand results.Dreams whisper maybe. Expectations insist on must.
That conversation lingered with me for hours after we parked the car. It made me wonder how often we mistake one for the other, and how freeing it would be to start dreaming again without the burden of needing it to happen exactly as planned.
The rest of the afternoon was spent meeting the handyman at one of our Bekasi apartments. The place needs renovation before we can rent it out again. It’s well-located, a short walk from the LRT station, right across from the new Pakuwon Mall. As we discussed what to fix, I kept thinking how similar this process is to life: sometimes you need to patch the leaks and repaint the walls before someone new can walk in and call it home.
Evening crept in quietly, but the to-do list wasn’t done. We stopped by the mall to buy a birthday gift for my eldest. She had a very specific request: a cat-shaped neck pillow from Mr. DIY. It made me smile, coz even at (almost) 19, she still finds joy in small, soft things.
Before going home, we grabbed an O’Crepes snack. It took forever to make, and the cashier almost refused QRIS payment because the machine “wasn’t working.” I insisted she try again because we didn't bring any cash (as always) and of course, it worked. A small win, but one that reminded me how often people give up right before something actually works.
We hit traffic on the way home, the kind that blurs city boundaries and patience alike. By the time we reached our place, it was 8 PM. I cooked rice, reheated leftovers, and sat down to eat with my eldest, who wasn’t feeling well because it was her first day of her period. I smiled quietly; some patterns repeat through generations. I remember being her age, curled up in pain every first day of period.
It’s funny, when you live a day that full, you don’t realize how much life actually fits in twenty-four hours. Not the glamorous kind, but the messy, meaningful kind that builds you slowly.
I guess that’s what balance really looks like. Not perfect calm, but being present through the chaos: laughing, learning, fixing things, loving people, and still finding a reason to smile at the end of it all.
Dreams are what keep us alive. Expectations are what exhaust us. The art is knowing which one we’re following, and having the courage to let go of the wrong one.
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