Even When You Get What You Want…

Getting what we want rarely feels fulfilling if we’re still caught in perceived expectations and judgments of others. True fulfillment comes from being present and authentic. It took me years to realize this — not because I wasn’t “doing the work,” but because I was still measuring myself against a societal script of where I “should” be.

In my 20s, I believed that script was non-negotiable. I checked the boxes, played by the rules, and tried to earn safety and approval by pushing aside parts of myself that didn’t fit. Outwardly I was achieving; inwardly I was disconnected — operating on agenda and outcome rather than presence and self-trust.

For decades, I moved between my inner desires and external expectations, creating beautiful experiences but feeling a subtle tension, as if something unseen was judging my choices. Even my dreams echoed it. No matter how aligned my heart felt, my mind kept up a quiet reprimand.

Like many, the pandemic became my pivot point. My habits mirrored my inner state — more news, more alcohol, more escape. Then one morning, life handed me a clear message: everything had to change. My marriage, my work, my habits, my connection with myself. I stopped drinking, turned off the 24-hour news cycle, and the fog began to lift.

I started immersing myself in stories of near-death experiencers, beginning with Anita Moorjani, whose healing and insights resonated deeply. I figured if anyone has an idea of heaven, or God, it’s these people. They all seem to have a peaceful knowing that the depth of love that surrounds us is more vast than we can ever know from here, and we will all one day be reunited with it. That brings me comfort. I learned practices to reconnect with my body and inner guidance — somatic breath work, mindfulness, and stillness — slowly untying the knots in my stomach and quieting the noise in my head.

As my external life shifted — the end of my marriage, the sale of our property, stepping away from my career — I also began practicing truth-telling and self-acceptance in a new way. Each relationship, each ending, became a teacher. With distractions stripped away, I could finally focus on how I want to weave into the world from here.

Now the voices are quiet. The old expectations no longer weigh on me. I stand in a simpler space — just myself and my connection to something greater. Pausing. Reflecting. Living from presence instead of performance. This is my ongoing journey into myself.