Բեքհեմից մինչև Մելհամ, ի՞նչ է մնում, երբ արդեն հասել ես քո երազանքին:

November 7, 2025 — 11.30am

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Along with wanting to be Sally Boyden from Young Talent Time, my first dream was going to Disneyland. From age six, my head exploded watching The Wonderful World of Disney over Rice-a-Riso snazzed up with flaked almonds by Mum.

The fireworks! The castle! The Snow White Grotto! I was desperate to get there. So when I actually rocked up to actual Disneyland in 1979, in a denim midi and braces like the singer in Promises, I felt euphoric.

Felt like I do now on a good edible.

But as with all trips, there was a downside to the high. Afterwards, reality felt more meh. Even then, with only Spirograph as a major life skill, I suspected having no horizon to move towards meant drifting in circles.

Time for new dreams. I decided to become a writer, mother, Olympic gymnast. Got most of it. Then I needed the next new thing to keep my brain’s chemicals happy.

Which is why I’m freaking out a bit for Jamie Melham and David Beckham.

This week Melham, gutsy as all get out, became a Melbourne Cup-winning jockey. Second woman to do it. Beckham, the best soccer player turned beekeeper ever, became Sir David after devoting 10 years to snagging a knighthood.

Couldn’t be happier for them. Sobbed my face off when Jamie saluted.

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But now I wonder what comes next for Melham and Becks, and all of us who nail dreams.

Does it bring satisfaction or expose you to having to find your next big thing? What happens when you get everything you want?

My husband Chris dreamt of opening the bowling for Australia. He did. Technically. For the Royal Australian Navy in the 1987 Tri Nations series. Whisked to grounds in the commodore’s car, he floated around like a rock star and played out of his jocks.

Then he went back to painting ship decks. But Chris still says it was the best few days of his life. No crash. Just jubilation. And he gave himself decent breathing space – three decades – to tick off his next dream, honeymooning with his true love at a Gundagai motel.

I talk dreams with my massage therapist mate Frances at the dog beach. Hers came true – opening her own clinic. She loved it until high rents, insurance and a therapist with bad juju nearly sent her bananas.

“I think maybe it’s that getting a dream is different in reality to what you’ve imagined,” Frances says.

Achieving your dream opens you up. It resets the stakes. It proves you can do hard things, which makes the next dream feel possible instead of ridiculous.

The dream is smoother in your head. Real life has corners. That feels about right.

Here’s what I reckon: achieving your dream opens you up. It resets the stakes. It proves you can do hard things, which makes the next dream feel possible instead of ridiculous.

You might already know my happiness recipe: someone to love and be loved by, something to do and something to look forward to. That last one is critical. You need a goal, even if it’s small.

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When finding another mountain to climb feels exhausting, I hunt out everyday wins that keep the pulse alive without needing a trophy or title.

A terrific smoothie. The perfect roadie playlist. Finding bathers you could wear in a calisthenics eisteddfod and the pants wouldn’t ride up. Ladies, I recently had this experience. DM for swimwear details.

Now, I’m dreaming of becoming a mega mogul thanks to my secret recipe hot choc fudge sauce (kills people from happiness) and an all-natural spray made from beer and mouthwash (kills mozzies from happiness). Look out world! This is happening.

I reckon the trick isn’t to stop dreaming once you’ve won. It’s to dream differently. You don’t always need the Melbourne Cup. Sometimes you just need something that makes you pumped to get up on Tuesday.

So congrats, Jamie and Sir David. Winning. Can’t wait to see what you do now with all that drive, when the finish line’s been crossed and King Charles himself has smirked knowingly at the camera while touching you with a sword.

But keep your silks and socials handy. Because that itch will come again. And it could be harder to scratch next time.

Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media.

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Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media.

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