The Big Dream Hotline: LIVE
Here's the deal, and I'm going to be completely straight with you.
I host a podcast where mothers call a phone line and say their wildest dream out loud. Ninety seconds. First name, where they're calling from, the dream — the unshrunk version, not the apologized-for one.
On the very first episode, I said mine. I said I dream about a real theater, full of mothers, walking up to a real microphone and saying the scariest thing they've ever said in front of a room of women who get it. And then I admitted the part I almost cut: that for years I've shrunk that dream. I'd think theater and do a meetup. I'd think book and draft an email.
So this is me not shrinking it.
This is a real show. It is not booked yet. That's the whole point.
I am selling tickets to a theatrical event I have not yet paid for, in a Westchester theater I will book the day this works.
If I don't sell 200 tickets by January 1, 2027, the show doesn't happen and every single person gets their money back in full. Automatically. You won't have to email me or ask.
I'm asking you to bet on it. I'm betting harder — I'm doing it in public, with my name on it, where everyone can watch it either work or not.
WHAT THE NIGHT ACTUALLY IS
Ninety-five minutes. Not a panel. Not a networking event. Not a conference with a step-and-repeat.
Real mothers come up to a real microphone and say their dream out loud to a room full of women who understand exactly what it cost to say it. Some of them will have called the hotline. Some will decide in their seat, at 8:15, that tonight's the night.
There's a bell. When someone says their dream, the whole room loses its mind for her. That's not a metaphor, there's an actual bell.
You will laugh more than you expect. You will probably cry once. You will leave with one specific thing you're going to do that week, and I'll be checking.
Nobody is going to sell you a course.
WHO THIS IS FOR
Mothers who still want something.
Not coping strategies. Not self-care. Not balance. You've been offered all of that. This is about wanting — the bakery, the book, the degree, the business, the one-way ticket, the band. The thing you don't say at the dinner table because someone will ask how you'd pay for it.
Bring the friend who needs to hear she's not the only one. Bring your mother. Bring your daughter, honestly.
WHEN & WHERE
Spring 2027 — target date [DATE], Westchester County, NY.
I'll announce the theater and lock the date the moment we hit 200. If you're holding a ticket, you'll hear it from me first, and if the confirmed date doesn't work for you, you get a full refund, no questions.
THE REFUND PROMISE, IN PLAIN ENGLISH
If fewer than 200 tickets sell by January 1, 2027, the show is cancelled and 100% of your ticket price is refunded to the card you paid with. Automatically.
I am not spending a dollar of this money until we hit the number. It sits untouched. That's a promise I'm making in public so you can hold me to it.
If we hit 200 and I announce a date that doesn't work for you, you can request a full refund up to 30 days after the date is announced.
After that, tickets are transferable to anyone you like. Just email me the name.
WHY I'M DOING IT THIS WAY
Because I've spent a year asking mothers what they want, and the most common answer isn't a dream — it's "nobody's asked me that in nine years."
And because a dream that stays in your head isn't a plan. It's a secret. Secrets get heavy.
I'm not going to ask you to say yours out loud in a theater and then keep mine safely in a drawer.
200 seats. January 1. Let's find out.
— Megan Darrell, Big Mother Energy Harrison, NY
The hotline is open now: 914-340-4611. Call it or text it — first name, where you're from, your dream.