You ever feel like you’re living someone else’s life?

Like every choice you make isn’t really yours—it’s just the next step on some invisible path you never actually chose?

Graduate. Get a “real” job. Find someone. Settle down. Be responsible.

And if you don’t? If you dare to step off the path, even for a second?

People start looking at you different.

Like you’re a mistake waiting to happen. Like you’re wasting potential. Like you should be doing more.

I don’t even know what “more” means anymore.

But I do know this:

Living under the weight of expectation feels a lot like drowning.

The Burden of “Should”

I can’t count how many times I’ve heard the word should.

“You should go back to school.”
“You should get a steady job.”
“You should be more responsible.”
“You should have it figured out by now.”

Should. Should. Should.

Like my entire existence is a to-do list written by someone else.

And the worst part?

After a while, it starts getting in your head.

You start second-guessing yourself. You wonder if maybe they’re right. Maybe you should want what they want.

Maybe you’re the problem. Maybe if you just followed the rules, you’d finally feel at peace.

But here’s the thing—peace doesn’t come from betraying yourself.

It doesn’t come from following a script that was never yours to begin with.

It comes from deciding, for yourself, what actually matters.

And sometimes, that means disappointing people.

The Fear of Letting People Down

If I had a dollar for every time I did something just to keep someone else happy, I wouldn’t need to worry about money ever again.

It’s not even about approval. It’s about not feeling like a disappointment.

Because the truth is, when people expect things from you—when they believe in you, when they see something in you—it’s a beautiful kind of pressure.

Until it isn’t.

Until it feels like you owe them something. Like you have to live a certain way just to justify their belief in you.

And if you don’t?

If you walk away? If you choose a different path? If you refuse to be the person they wanted you to be?

Then what?

Do they stop loving you? Do they stop believing in you?

Or—worse—do they start looking at you like you wasted something? Like you let them down?

That’s the fear that keeps so many of us trapped.

Not the fear of failure.

The fear of disappointing the people we love.

Whose Life Are You Living?

I think we all hit a point where we have to ask ourselves:

Am I doing this for me?

Or am I doing it because it’s what’s expected?

It’s a terrifying question. Because sometimes, the answer is ugly.

Sometimes, we realize we’ve spent years chasing things we don’t even want.

Degrees we never cared about.
Jobs that drain the life out of us.
Relationships we stayed in because we were supposed to.

All because we didn’t want to rock the boat.

And the worst part?

Even when we know the truth—even when we see the cage—we stay inside it.

Because stepping out means admitting we’ve been living for someone else.

And that’s not easy to face.

The Cost of Choosing Yourself

Here’s the part no one talks about.

Choosing yourself? It’s not some beautiful, freeing moment where the world claps and everything falls into place.

It’s messy. It’s lonely. It’s terrifying.

People will be disappointed.
Some doors will close.
Some relationships will change.

But what’s the alternative?

Living a life that isn’t yours?

Playing a role until one day you wake up and realize you don’t even recognize yourself anymore?

I don’t know about you, but that’s not a price I’m willing to pay.

So, What Now?

If you’re carrying the weight of expectation—if you feel like you’re suffocating under what everyone wants from you—hear me out:

You don’t owe anyone the version of yourself that makes them comfortable.

You don’t have to live up to someone else’s idea of who you should be.

You get to decide.

And yeah, it might piss some people off.

But at the end of the day, you’re the one who has to live with your choices.

So make sure they’re yours.

—J