The Weight of Expectations

I've been carrying everyone else's expectations for so long that I forgot what I actually want. It's exhausting, this constant need to meet everyone else's standards while losing sight of my own.

The Burden of "Should"

I should be more successful. I should have it all figured out by now. I should be further along in my career. I should be in a relationship. I should be happier. I should be more grateful. I should be more productive. I should be more social. I should be more confident.

The list never ends.

Where Did These Expectations Come From?

Some of them are mine, twisted by years of comparison and self-doubt. Others were handed to me by well-meaning parents, teachers, friends, society. They all got mixed up somewhere along the way, and now I can't tell which voice is actually mine.

The Fear of Disappointing

What if I let everyone down? What if I'm not who they think I am? What if I choose my own path and it leads nowhere? What if I'm wrong about what I want?

The fear is paralyzing. It's easier to keep trying to meet everyone else's expectations than to figure out what I actually want for myself.

Learning to Let Go

But I'm starting to realize something: I can't be everything to everyone. I can't meet every expectation. And more importantly, I don't have to.

The people who truly care about me will love me regardless of my job title, relationship status, or life choices. The rest? Well, maybe their opinions don't matter as much as I thought they did.

Finding My Own Voice

It's scary to start listening to my own voice after years of drowning it out. What if I don't like what I hear? What if I'm not who I thought I was?

But maybe that's okay. Maybe the journey of discovering who I really am is more important than being who everyone else thinks I should be.

One Step at a Time

I'm not going to figure this out overnight. But I'm starting to ask myself the hard questions: What do I actually want? What makes me feel alive? What would I do if no one was watching?

The answers are still unclear, but at least I'm starting to ask the questions. And that feels like progress.

Because in the end, the only expectations that matter are the ones I set for myself. And maybe, just maybe, those are the only ones I need to worry about.