My Oxford Story — For the Busy Woman Who Forgot She Had Dreams
Most People Only Know the Current Me
Most people these days know me as the working mom, the business leader, the woman juggling calendars and carpools, managing teams and checking homework. But there’s a version of me that many have never met.
The Art Student with Big Ideas
Back in college, I lived on the edges of “normal.” I thrived in the weird and wonderful world of the arts, studying at Tyler School of Art. I had paint under my fingernails and big ideas about how life could be. Professors like Dr. Murphy and Deb weren’t just faculty—they were mentors who saw something in me before I could see it in myself.
One day, in passing, one of them (I wish I could remember who) suggested I apply to Oxford for graduate school. Oxford. The University of Oxford. At the time, I laughed it off. I mean, who was I to apply there? I was just a regular art student with a knack for the unconventional. The idea felt so wildly out of reach that I didn’t even give it ten seconds of real thought. I tucked it away in the dusty corners of my mind, where it stayed hidden for 25 years.
Until 2024.
I can’t tell you what stirred it awake. All I know is that one day, it hit me fast and furious like a freight train: I could still go to Oxford. I have to go to Oxford.
Reality Check: Mom, Leader, Dreamer
Now, let’s pause here, because I know how this sounds. I’m a 45-year-old working mom. I run a company. I manage employees, a household, and three kids. I don’t exactly have “take a class at Oxford” written neatly on my calendar between back-to-back meetings and grocery runs. But once the dream resurfaced, I couldn’t shake it. I didn’t want to.
So, I followed the pull. I did the thing that so many of us—especially women—are trained to dismiss: I let myself want something big. I searched for Oxford’s continuing education programs. And to my shock, there it was—short courses for professionals. Accessible. Doable. Real.
And just like that, I booked it. A class. An Airbnb. Five plane tickets. This summer, I’m not just taking my family to the UK so I can study at Oxford, I’m showing them that dreams are possible.
What I’ve Learned
Because here’s what I’ve learned:
Just because a dream has been buried for years doesn’t mean it’s dead.
Just because you’re busy doesn’t mean you can’t.
And just because it sounds impossible doesn’t mean it is.
The original dream can change without losing its draw. In college I dreamt, however briefly, of a prestigious graduate degree, but today I’m pursuing professional development. The dream didn’t die, it evolved, and attending a class at Oxford will hold a different level of value because now I can share it with my family.
A Message to You
To the woman reading this who’s been running so fast you’ve forgotten what your dreams even are—I see you. To the busy parent who says “I don’t have time”—I’m right there with you. You don’t need to wait for the perfect time. It doesn’t exist. But you can decide that some dreams are worth figuring out. That the life you’ve dreamt of isn’t as far off as it seems..
Dreams are possible. Even the ones we shelved decades ago. Especially those.
