When I was a little girl, my life felt neatly outlined by everyone else’s expectations. I was told to get good grades, go to college, don't do drugs or anything stupid and then I will be able to secure a stable career, make more money, and have more freedom and opportunity in life. I was taught that it was extra important to be “nice” so people would like me (eh hem... approve of me), to strive for a relationship with a "nice" man, and prioritize being a wife and mother, too. And I did all of these things—or at least I tried really, really hard to. I checked the boxes: I got the degrees, stayed out of too much trouble, got married to a man in the military, and had the kids. Life's perfect, right? Check that box, too… Alright, so not quite. Nearly ten years ago exactly, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life: I left an unhealthy marriage. Not because it was abusive or outwardly catastrophic, but because it was a marriage built on what society wanted for me, not what I truly wanted for myself. Walking away wasn’t easy—it meant walking into the unknown, charting my own path forward as a single mom of three. I’ve spent the better part of these past ten years unlearning what I was taught to aspire to. And I’ve come to realize just how deeply society, wittingly or unwittingly conditions us, especially as women, to squeeze ourselves into boxes that often have nothing to do with what we actually want. We're rarely ever taught to prioritize ourselves—more often, quite the opposite. 🩵 The Expectations We Carry From a young age, we’re conditioned to aspire to roles and achievements that serve the world’s script, not our soul’s desires. Be a “good” girl. Get married. Have kids. Build a career that looks good on paper. Stay in your lane. Be nice—don’t make waves. This isn't to say that any of this is necessarily done with mal-intent, oh no, it's usually done with the best of intentions, particularly by those closest to us that we look up to. But being “nice” often just means suppressing who we really are to make others comfortable. It’s not about being kind, genuine, or true to ourselves. And the problem with this kind of niceness is that it chips away at the self, little by little, until one day, you wake up and wonder, Is this who I really am?