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.