When Money Is the Only Scoreboard

My travelling therapist adventures have recently brought me to an area where a lot of people have a lot of money. Not “doing okay” money. Not “finally paid off the car” money. I’m talking importing lobster, building garages for their many four wheelers, adding a second vacation home, buying all the land, multiple yachts kind of money.

And there’s something I’ve started to notice that makes me feel off. When I’m around certain people, all they talk about is money, and how much money they spent. Not in practical ways like, “Hey, this bill is high,” or “I’m trying to save for XYZ.” I mean everything becomes a conversation about what they spent, what they’re building, what they’re buying, what it all cost, and how much more they have (or will have) than the next person.

It’s not just conspicuous consumption. It’s not just flexing. It’s competition.

Keeping up with the Joneses: the idea that people spend money to maintain a certain image or status relative to their neighbors. Failure to do so is perceived as a demonstration of inferiority. They have it, I don’t, so I am less than them.

But what I’m seeing is a step beyond that. It’s not just, “They got a new car, so we should probably get a new car too.” It’s more like, “They spent $300,000 on that car, so I’m going to spend $300,001.”

It’s about the score. Who spent more? Who upgraded more? Who got the more exotic trip, the better seats, the “premium” version of everything? Money becomes a scoreboard, an ongoing, endless tournament where the only rule is: more wins.

Can’t Quantify Happiness

A lot of what humans actually care about is hard to measure.

You can’t easily quantify how loved you are, how meaningful your work feels, how deeply you’re understood by your friends, how safe you feel in your own skin, how much inner peace you have. There’s no number for those.

Money comes with numbers attached to every single thing. This house cost X. That remodel cost Y. This car was Z over sticker. For some people, especially those who are rich and surrounded by other rich people, money becomes the only value, the only score.

You can’t say at dinner, “I love my partner more than you love yours.” But you can say, “Yeah, we dropped $70,000 on my wife’s new car,” and everyone around you knows exactly where to put that on the invisible leaderboard. They keep talking about money because it’s quantifiable, it’s comparable, and it’s socially legible. It’s the one metric everyone in that circle can instantly understand, even if they might not care about it.

When Every Story is a Price Tag

When all your stories are about how much something costs, you stop telling stories about what actually mattered. Instead of, “We had this wild, sacred moment together on that trip, and it changed how I see my life,” you get, “The resort was $900 a night, and it came with a private chef.” Instead of, “We hosted people we love, and we felt so connected,” you get, “We spent $5,000 on that party.”

The emotional content gets stripped out and replaced with a price tag. Over time, it’s easy to forget how something felt and remember only what it cost monetarily.

This isn’t an argument against money itself. Money can buy safety, freedom, experiences, and I definitely want more of it. You may not be able to fully escape environments where this kind of competition happens, especially if you live or work around wealth.

Why does this need to be a competition in the first place?

I was talking to a client who spent a staggering amount of money on his family member’s car. It was a gift, but it was more about his own desire to do something big, to feel like he’s provided in an impressive way.

When asked, “Now that the money is spent and you have the car, do you feel good?” his answer was, “No. Whatever enjoyment there was is already over. Now it’s just time to move on to the next thing.”

The act of buying something does not actually provide anything lasting. The satisfaction evaporates almost immediately. It’s just one more addiction. Slightly high for a little bit to feed aching void in your soul, and then it’s over. Back to the empty.

What insecurity, what fear, what void is underneath all this? Maybe all the spending is just a very expensive way to avoid sitting with your own discomfort. It’s easier to chase the next purchase than to sit in a quiet room and ask, “What actually hurts here? Where do I feel small, unseen, or afraid? Am I anyone without my money? Would anyone even like me if I lost it all?”

If you’re sick of this game, whether you’re rich and your life feels empty, or you’re not rich and the spending is still covering something up; then it’s time to change how you play. Pause before the next purchase and ask what feeling you’re hoping it will fix. Notice the urge to impress, and just once in a while, choose to be honest instead.

Let yourself want peace, connection, and a life that feels good from the inside more than you want to “win” a game no one ever actually wins.

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Before your next big purchase ask yourself, ‘What feeling am I hoping this fixes?’ Don’t change anything yet. Just notice.

Hunter Mind in a Farmer World

If you have ADHD (#ADHSteve) or what I like to call the Hunter Mentality, you can probably feel this statement in your soul:

You were never meant to be a smooth, slow, steady person.

The way your brain runs, you can sit down for three hours and do what might take someone else two full days. When hyperfocus hits, you move like a laser, like a scalpel. You lock onto a task, a problem, a project, a creation and suddenly everything flows. You’re producing, creating, solving, connecting dots no one else even sees. Building something never before conceived.

And then… you crash.

Not because you’re lazy or inconsistent or undisciplined. Your nervous system wasn’t built to run at 40% output, forever, doing the same thing over and over again. You were built to sprint, not shamble.

Yet most of our modern work culture is based on exactly that: the Farmer Mentality.

The Farmer vs. the Hunter

The Farmer mentality is what most jobs assume you want:

  • Show up at the same time every day

  • Do roughly the same tasks

  • Maintain a steady, predictable output

  • Keep going at a moderate pace, indefinitely

It’s not bad (It’s just bad for Steve). Farmers are the backbone of stability. They plant, maintain, harvest, repeat. The whole system is built to be as smooth and predictable as possible. This is how we have a world where we expect the things we need to be on the shelves.
But if you’re wired like a Hunter, this feels like slow suffocation. Hunters are designed for:

  • Bursts of intense focus and energy

  • Locking onto a target and going all-in

  • Responding quickly to changing conditions

  • High stakes and high rewards, novelty, and movement

A Hunter can track an idea, a crisis, a creative project the way their ancestors tracked game: alert, attuned, fully alive. But once the hunt is over, the crisis resolved, the project done, the problem solved, the system needs to reset. It needs to rest, wander, daydream, find the next meaningful target.

We were never meant to be “on” in a linear, predictable way all day, every day, forever. Yet that’s exactly what the modern world demands of us. And when we don’t fit into a world never built for us they call it a Disorder.

How Did We Get So Misaligned?

Part of the problem is who designs the systems we live in. The people building our workplaces, schools, and institutions are often obsessed with stability and security and for good reason.

From a Farmer perspective, this makes perfect sense. If your nervous system craves predictability and routine, you’re going to design a world that gives you exactly that. This is how Farmers survive a random, tragic, and dangerous reality.

But if you have ADHD, if you are wired like a Hunter, you weren’t built for that world. You were built for:

  • Times of instability and upheaval

  • Moments when everything is on the line

  • Times of war where quick adaptation is survival

  • The pandemic level events where the old rules no longer apply

  • The days when the food runs out and someone has to go explore what’s over that mountain that no one else has ever returned from.

Your nervous system is tuned to notice the rustle in the bushes, the shift in the group’s mood, the opportunity or danger no one else has seen yet. You are built to cross the path no one has crossed before; geographically, creatively, emotionally, professionally.

And now you’re sitting under fluorescent lights, filling out forms, answering emails, and pretending your brain is totally fine doing the same thing at the same time every day. No wonder so many people with ADHD feel broken.

But you’re not broken. You’re misplaced.

If this is resonating, here’s the most important take away;

There is nothing wrong with you for struggling in a world that wasn’t built for you.

You are not a defective Farmer. You are a displaced Hunter. The collapse after a burst of hyperfocus isn’t failure. It’s your nervous system doing what it’s designed to do after a sprint. The boredom, restlessness, and frustration with repetitive tasks aren’t moral issues, they are not personal failures. They’re mismatches.

We have built an entire culture around the idea that “good” workers are stable, predictable, and endlessly steady, and then we pathologize the people who are wired for intensity, responsiveness, and exploration.

I’m not saying you need to go live in a literal war zone or throw yourself into constant chaos. What I am saying is that you need;

  • work that enlivens you, not just fills time.

  • tasks that entrance you, not just distract you.

  • space in your life for hyperfocused sprints, and permission to actually rest afterwards.

  • You need environments, projects, and relationships that recognize and celebrate your Hunter Mind instead of constantly punishing it.

When a Hunter is aligned with the right targets; a mission that matters, a monster to slay, a path no one else has forged yet, they’re not just “coping with ADHD.” They’re doing exactly what they were built to do. They are being the person they are supposed to be.

The world desperately needs that.

Are you more Hunter, more Farmer, or more mixed? This week, notice one situation where you’re asking your Hunter brain to act like a Farmer. What happens if you build in a sprint and a real rest instead of forcing yourself to grind?

Holidays, Family, Travel…and Staying Sane

The stereotype of the holidays promises warmth and connection and fun times around the fire. At least that what everyone on TV says it’s supposed to be.

However, if you have a less than ideal relationship with your family, the holidays can feel like walking into mind games, obligations, old wounds, old roles, and fresh disappointments. Add travel stress and seasonal depression and it’s very easy to end up dysregulated, resentful, numb, and promising “this is the last year I’m putting up with this explative!” Just like you said last year.

So how do we survive this?

First, I’m opening extra telehealth sessions specifically for holiday support. I’ll be working limited hours on Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day. Great for prepping, mid-event grounding, or post-event debriefing.

You can schedule ahead of time or if you start freaking out because of the chaotic nonsense that Uncle Ron pulled this year (just like he does every year) you can message me directly and ask for a same day session. Sessions will be first come, first serve and be subject to availability.

The direct scheduling link is here

https://prosperitycc.sessionshealth.com/request

Or you can always find it on www.shadowdiver.org

Not for emergencies. If you’re in crisis, call 911, 988 or your local emergency number.

However, you might be saying, “Steve, you are as wise as you are bald. But I don’t want to spend the holidays being in the counseling session.” Fair enough. So let’s get some plans before the events.

Set the dealbreakers.

These are things that you don’t accept as part of the holidays, as topics of discussion, or as expectations to perform a certain way. These can include but are not limited to;

  • Weight.

  • Taking care of someone inebriated.

  • Politics.

  • Driving Uncle Ron to the train station.

  • Who I’m dating.

  • My career.

  • Family drama

  • Comparing me to others.

Have the Scripts

One of the best ways to protect yourself is to know exactly what you want to say and how to say it.

  • “Great to see you. I’m here until 6, then I have evening plans.”

  • Deflecting intrusive questions: “I’m keeping that private, thanks.” “I’m not discussing dating/finances/health/Donny T. today.”

  • Body/appearance comments: “Please don’t comment on my body.”

    • Repeat once; if it continues, remove yourself

  • Politics: “I’m here for connection, not debate. Let’s keep it off the table.”

  • Triangulation against other family members: “I don’t want to talk about any one else or their business, especially if they are not here.”

  • Exit: “I’m heading out now. Thanks for having me. I’ll text when I’m home.” And then actually leave.

If you need a little help, please check out the nonviolent communication worksheet here.

https://nonviolentcommunication.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/4part_nvc_process.pdf

Empower Yourself Logistically

  • Control arrival and lodging. Drive yourself or keep rideshare money ready. Have a little extra on hand because Ubers increase in price on holidays

  • If possible, sleep elsewhere (friend’s place, hotel, short-term rental). Independence and distance from emotionally distressing people leads to nervous system safety.

  • Shorten the visiting window. Two focused, peaceful hours with family is much better than eight exhausting hours. This is especially important if you are naturally introverted.

  • Alcohol increases reactivity and family reenactments. Decide your limit in advance or skip entirely

Avoid Sensory Overload

Crowded houses supercharge everyone’s nervous system; noise, smells, constant bids for attention, nowhere to sit, nowhere to be. If you’re ADHD, ASD, or dealing with the aftereffects of trauma then that chaos can lead to instant regression. Do not try to tolerate the chaos. Create clean exits and real rest instead.

  • Make a quick list of 3–5 off-site places you can go without asking anyone’s permission; park, a bench somewhere, library, museum, coffee shop, even a department store if they are open.

  • Bring anything you need to be outside for a bit. Warm clothing, rain gear, hat, bugspray, etc. Have it ready so that if you start to feel claustrophobic you can just walk away.

  • Check in within your mind and body. It’s very easy to lose awareness of your own needs, desires, reactions, and increasing tension when you’re surrounded by the noise and crowd. Do a quick emotional check every so often. Timed reminders on your phone will be helpful.

  • If you’re starting to freaking out, then use the fancy coping skills that Steve has already taught you; 5 senses grounding, body scan, visualization, progressive muscle relaxation.

    • Need some more directive help? Go on the youtube and find a 5 minute meditation.

I'm not sponsored by Loop Earplugs, but I should be. I have 3 sets, and the Engage2 earplugs have pass-through noise reduction, which allows me to have a clear conversation with the people around me while reducing the screams of cranky children. Check them out here; www.loopearplugs.com

Screw you guys, I’m going home.”

Life is only as serious as you decide it is. You are obligated to no one, and no one is entitled to you. You have your energy, attention, and time, and you say what you spend it on.

You get to say, “I'm not showing up for holidays this year.”

You get to say, “I'm here at the holiday, and this is overwhelming for me, so I'm just going to go home. Bye”

I know this might be hard for codependents, the traumatized, and the adult children of emotionally immature parents to hear this but you can actually just not put up with this shit and go to the beach, park, bar, or just stay home instead. If it causes some drama but you get to keep your sanity, it is worth it.

Ultimately, it is your life, your choices, and the word “Holiday” doesn’t have to mean anything.

Daylight savings was created by Satan to screw with our mental health

Daylight Saving Time (DST) wasn’t invented for farmers or health or any other crap the government says it benefits. DST became policy during World War I to save fuel and boost economic activity later in the day. The people who benefit most are evening businesses and industries that love longer post-work daylight (restaurants, bars, golf courses, etc)

Energy savings are mixed at best in modern grids, and cause such significant mental distress that I believe its not worth it. Clock-switching hurts public health, safety, and mood. Jumping the clock by an hour creates circadian misalignment: less sleep, worse timing of hormones, and slower reaction times. That mismatch is linked with more energy crashes the following weeks, mood dips, fatigue, an increase in car accidents and other risks. Circadian misalignment is also tied to higher depressive symptoms, especially for ADHD brains, second shifters, and night owls.

If you find yourself still recovering from the time change, just know that you are not alone in facing it. Recognize that you might need some time to rest and even isolate somewhat until your mind and body get used to the switch.

Stay hydrated. I know everyone says water is a cure-all but dehydration is actually linked to more fatigue. If you have set meal times, coffee times, and break times your bodily cues may still be adjusting. Make sure you are drinking water before you feel thirsty.
Get actual light in your eyes. You don’t need to stare at the sun or anything but sitting next to a window with natural light coming through is one of the best ways to get your brain reacclimated.

These tips are also helpful for seasonal affective disorder as well. So keep them in mind all winter, and in six months when we have to deal with this explativing nonsense again.

Why Venture Capitalist Online Therapy Platforms Can Be Harmful to Clients

Venture capitalist (VC)-backed online therapy platforms have become prominent players in mental health care, promoting accessibility and convenience for clients worldwide. However, the high-growth model of these platforms often prioritizes profit over quality of care. As a result, VC-backed therapy companies can pose significant risks to clients. Here are some of the most pressing concerns:

  1. Profit Over Client-Centered Care
    VC-funded platforms are driven by the need to deliver substantial returns to investors, which can come at the expense of providing individualized, client-centered care. With a focus on profitability, these platforms may emphasize the volume of clients rather than the quality of support each client receives. This can lead to a “quick fix” approach to therapy, compromising the potential for meaningful therapeutic relationships and outcomes.

  2. Therapist Burnout and High Turnover
    In their pursuit of growth, many VC-backed platforms require therapists to manage high caseloads, often while offering them inadequate compensation and minimal clinical support. This model results in high levels of therapist burnout, diminishing their ability to offer high-quality, empathetic care. Additionally, high turnover among therapists disrupts continuity for clients, which can undermine the therapeutic process and client progress.

  3. Deceptive Advertising and Disruption of Private Practice
    Some VC-backed therapy platforms engage in deceptive advertising practices to attract clients and drive traffic to their services, even at the expense of individual private practices. These companies may purchase ads that mislead clients by using the names and credentials of independent clinicians without permission, diverting traffic away from their private practices. This tactic creates an unfair competitive advantage and can mislead clients into choosing corporate platforms over trusted individual providers.

  4. Questionable Data Privacy Practices
    With profitability tied to data, some VC-backed platforms collect and share client data with third parties, raising significant privacy concerns. This data may be used for targeted advertising or other revenue-generating activities, potentially putting sensitive client information at risk. Compromised confidentiality can damage the therapeutic alliance, as clients may feel reluctant to share openly, knowing their information may not be fully secure.

  5. Lack of Personalized Care
    To achieve scale, VC-backed platforms often rely on algorithms and standardized assessment tools to match clients with therapists. While efficient, these tools lack the nuance required to address the unique needs and backgrounds of each client, resulting in a “one-size-fits-all” model. Such an approach limits the depth and personalization of therapeutic work, leading to potentially lower satisfaction and effectiveness in therapy.

  6. Reduced Accountability and Oversight
    VC-backed platforms frequently expand with minimal clinical oversight and accountability, which can lead to inconsistent standards of care. In their haste to grow, some platforms may overlook essential clinical guidelines or fail to ensure that clients receive timely support, particularly in crisis situations. The lack of regulatory oversight and accountability further compromises the quality and safety of care provided.

VC-backed online therapy platforms may seem appealing due to their accessibility and marketing claims, but the profit-driven model can compromise the integrity and quality of therapy. Clients should be aware of these risks and consider independent providers where possible. Additionally, stricter guidelines and ethical standards are needed to ensure that online therapy platforms are held accountable for protecting client privacy, maintaining high standards of care, and practicing ethical advertising.


Some People Believe Safety Exists. Others That Safety Does Not Exist. Personality and Politics, Part 1: GUN

It was 2018. I was visiting counselor friends in Orlando. We are sitting around the conference table in the only office I ever considered home, talking about stuff when my friend made a contemptuous comment about her husband buying a shotgun.

I like guns. I like the 2nd amendment. I think any person who can’t take me in fight should be armed because there are monsters in the dark. The comment got to me. Why do I and my friend have such opposite views about guns? And does this extend to swords, fists, and violence in general?

When I was commuting for hours from the place that I hated living in to the job that was genuinely killing me, I thought about this question. When I was driving back I thought about it. When I was at the gym, pretending to work out I thought about it. When I was freezing my ass off in the cold dead winters of Pittsburgh I was thinking about it. When I was letting the sun cook my brain I thought about it. Why are we so opposite on this subject? Why do I think that in order to be safe its best to be armed, and why does she think the opposite?

So it took about 18 months to get the answer and when I finally understood, when I finally got hit in the head by the goddamn clue-by- four, the skies opened up and angels sang.

Some people believe safety exists. Other people believe safety does not exist.

It blew my mind once I figured this out. If you grew up like I did, being traumatized, constantly afraid, constantly waiting for the agony to hit you, you want safety but it is a rare thing. No one ever provided that for me. In fact if I ever asked for that I was called a pussy and then beaten up. And then told I was morally wrong for wanting basic safety in the first place.

Of course I want to be armed.

The world is dangerous, random, and tragic. People are malicious, or so incompetent that it ends up being the same effect as malice. Get a gun because you can use it to defend yourself. It is only by my own ability to create safety around me that I can feel safe.

For me, someone willfully choosing to remove their ability to protect themselves and the people they love is the height of suicidal foolishness. But then you talk to these normies who were probably raised right. If you grew up relatively safely, or at the very least grew up with the belief and experience that danger is the exception rather than the rule, then of course you see things differently. The world is safe and in that safety you can find joy and peace. People are generally nice, or at the very least not malicious against you. Safety exists as a normal part of the universe, and it's only when a monster shows up that it becomes dangerous.

Of course you don’t want to be armed, safety exists naturally and you don’t have to do anything to attain it.

No one talks about the actual belief about whether safety exists or not. When you hear the politicians on the C-SPAN or the talking heads on the radio, the Democrat calls the Republican a bloodthirsty animal who just wants to kill, and the Republican calls the Democrat an overprivileged weakling who never had to throw a punch to save his pathetic life.

When you hear the debate about gun control, no one is actually talking about what's really going on underneath the surface. We’re just screaming at each other, trying to shout down the other side. Or we’re using the useless tools of “facts and logic” to fight them, as if it was ever an intellectual, logical, or objective issue.

When I work with my veterans, my service members, my first responders, and they say, “I have to sit down with my front to the door and my back to a wall”, “I can never actually have someone behind me.” “Getting off the elevator, I always let the other person go first. No one's going to get behind me to put a knife in my back.” .

And then they complain about their girlfriends, just gallivanting through the Starbucks with no situational awareness, not even knowing that a freaking animal can come in and kill us all. Safety doesn't exist for this person, except that which they, and the few people they trust, actually create around them. They know how dangerous it is out there. It’s my job to help them learn how to trust and relax and lower their hypervigilance to just vigilance

(Side note. Military, police, first responders recruit almost exclusively from those who grew up in chaotic, neglectful, dangerous, and/or traumatizing environments. More on that in a future dispatch.)

Then I talk to their wives or girlfriends who say, “I don't understand why he’s so tense. I don't understand why that we have to be like carrying a gun all the time and having a bug out bag and all this other stuff and why he has to like be so freaked about walking down the damn street.”

This concept of safety not existing is one of the many things that contributed to my social anxiety and social isolation. I was constantly terrified of everything because everything was constantly dangerous. I never knew the rules but the consequences of breaking them were megaton. Constant surprising agony, rejection, loneliness, berating.

And when I saw people who actually felt safe, who were relaxed, who trusted each other and their families, who could actually enjoy life, I didn’t understand it. How were they not constantly afraid, or at least aware of how dangerous everything was?

It took so long for me to realize that the danger for me was real, but it wasn’t for them. And it was never supposed to be there for me in the first place.

I could go on about this, and I will in part 2. In the meantime, look at yourself and look at your beliefs about violence and peace and safety and danger. Look at someone else who has the opposite views as you, and imagine what it would take for you to be like them.

Slay the Lie: “This is the Best I’ll Get”

At some point, many of us look at our lives, feel the quiet dread, and face a truth we don’t want to admit:

This isn’t what I wanted.

The relationship that feels more like resignation than love. The job that drains more than it gives. The city that never quite felt like home.

And yet, we stay. We settle for what we have. We swallow the discomfort and tell ourselves, “It’s not that bad.”

But the real problem isn’t that things are unbearable. They’re just bearable enough to stop us from reaching for something better.

This is a world that punishes failure and romanticizes endurance. We’re taught it’s safer to grasp what’s available, even if it’s uninspiring, than to risk reaching for what we truly want and falling short. We’re taught that disappointment is worse than numbness.

Take the bird in hand. Stop dreaming about the sky.

People don’t choose misery on purpose. They choose what feels most accessible: the familiar, the tolerable, the thing that won’t leave them empty-handed. This is how we end up accepting the unacceptable.

Maybe you tried going for more once, and got burned. Maybe you were taught not to expect much from people, or from life. Maybe every time you reached higher, someone told you you were selfish, naive, arrogant, or ungrateful.

So you began shrinking your vision. You stopped asking, What do I want? and started asking, What can I tolerate?

“This is the best I’ll get” isn’t a truth. It’s a trauma response.

It’s your brain trying to protect you from the heartbreak of wanting more and not getting it. Easier to settle than to risk hunger. Easier to go numb than to long for what feels out of reach.

But easier doesn’t mean better. And tolerable isn’t the same as aligned.

What would someone who loved themself do?

They would choose the hard road if it fed their soul. They would admit when “good enough” isn’t good enough. And they’d stop mistaking survival for success.

To start living the life you want, not just the one that’s available, here’s what must happen:

1. Admit what you have is not enough.

Yes, it will hurt. Yes, it will shake the foundation you built just to feel safe. The anxiety, grief, heartbreak means you’re waking up and seeing the truth. Let yourself mourn. Let yourself rage. Let yourself want.

2. Turn off autopilot.

Most people don’t choose mediocrity, they just stop choosing altogether. Look at your habits, your relationships, your work. Inventory your life. Ask yourself: Did I actively choose this? Or did I just stop trying?

3. Ask: If I believed it was safe to want, what would I want?

Let the answers come. Don’t justify them. Don’t edit them.

Wanting isn’t arrogance and desire is not sin. Stop making your dreams smaller just to make them seem “reasonable.” Let them be as big and impractical as they want to be

4. Listen to the resistance.

You’ll hear whispers, That’s unrealistic. You’re too much. You’ll never get there.

That voice isn’t the truth. It’s your protection system. It’s trying to shut the door before disappointment can walk through. Don’t argue. Just notice. Then say, I hear you. And I’m choosing to want more anyway.

5. Listen to the scarcity mindset.

Scarcity says: Good relationships are rare. Fulfilling work is rare. You should be lucky to have anything at all. What you have should be enough.

Scarcity wants you to confuse crumbs for feasts, but that’s a lie that keeps you small. Once again, don’t argue. Just notice. Then say, I hear you. And I’m choosing to want more anyway.

6. Relearn how to want.

If your first instinct is, “I don’t know what I want,” that’s not a lack of ambition.

That’s the residue of suppression, of repression. Wanting is a skill. It has to be safe before it can be clear. Start small. Daydream often. Let your desires be wild, impractical, holy.

You don’t have to change everything overnight.

You just have to stop pretending this is the best you’ll get.

I despise needs being seen as a problem

If you would like to watch the video instead please find it here

I was yelling at one of my clients the other day. He's lonely. He's one of my socially anxious people. Reminds me of me. I've been horribly, horribly socially anxious in the past. And we've been discussing “how do we actually want to maintain our relationships, our friendships as we transition, as people move apart.”

And I said, tell the the person that. Tell the person whether boy, girl, romantic partner, potential romantic partner or not, “Hey, I want to make sure that we maintain this relationship over time. In fact, maybe I want us all to live together. Hey, maybe I want to live close together. Hey, I want to join the commune. Hey, what's your Discord so we can play over the internet if you're on the other side of the planet.”

But he said something like, "But isn't that needy and weak?" And I disagreed. I hate it as a message. Because it's a message we all get. It's like “the person with the least needs is the most powerful.” The person who's robot, if they're emotionally unaffected by reality, they're the most powerful. They win the most.

And there's something to be said for that. If you're in a job that involves blood, running towards gunfire, running into a burning building then yes, there's a little bit of emotional control, a little bit of stoicism certainly isn't a bad thing.

But if it's taken it too far then it is avoidance of needs, avoidance of vulnerability, avoidance of “weakness.” Well, if I never have friends, I'll never be betrayed by them. Too bad you're just going to be lonely the rest of your life. Well, if I never actually have any sexual drive, any romantic drive, I'll never pursue it. That means I'll never get rejected. And that feels a lot more powerful than having my heart broken.

And it's so wrong. Independence can be a virtue, but independence to the point where you're just cutting yourself off from the rest of humanity sure as hell isn't. You're not that guy who goes to Alaska and lives in the wilderness forever. And if you are, kudos to you. Just take a look at the needs or the things you say that you shouldn't want, you shouldn't desire, you shouldn't actually have as a human need, and be like, "Nah, expletive that. I'm human and I'm allowed to pursue the love, safety, sleep, sex, beauty, fulfillment, self-actualization, whatever the hell it is you want, need.”