What You Should Do vs. What You Want to Do
And Why an Emotionally Fulfilled Life Lives in the Space Between
When we grow up, most of us are not given a blank canvas.
We are handed an imaginary script.
From a very young age, we are subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, programmed to believe certain things about who we are supposed to become. These beliefs don’t come from nowhere. They come from our families, our cultures, our schools, our communities, and the lives our parents themselves lived.
We learn what is acceptable.
We learn what is impressive.
We learn what is considered successful.
We learn what is impressive.
We learn what is considered successful.
And before we are old enough to question any of it, we internalize those expectations as truth.
This is where the tension begins — the quiet, lifelong tension between what we should do and what we want to do.
The Invisible Programming We All Carry
“What should I study?”
“What career makes sense?”
“What will give me security?”
“What will make my family proud?”
“What career makes sense?”
“What will give me security?”
“What will make my family proud?”
These questions are often answered for us long before we consciously ask them.
In many families, career paths are inherited more than chosen. Medicine, engineering, law, finance — these are seen as “safe,” “respectable,” and “practical.” They promise stability, status, and a certain kind of life.
Parents often pass these beliefs down not out of control or selfishness, but out of love. They want their children to have easier lives than they did. Sometimes, though, what parents didn’t get becomes what they unconsciously expect their children to pursue.
I was fortunate in this regard — my parents never aggressively forced a path onto me. But expectations still existed, quietly woven into the environment I grew up in.
Growing Up With a “Should” Already Decided
I grew up in a very traditional family.
My mother is a microbiologist.
My father holds a Bachelor of Science and studied chemistry.
My father holds a Bachelor of Science and studied chemistry.
Science wasn’t just respected in our household — it was the default. Girls, especially, were expected to study medicine or science-related fields. My older sisters were already on that path, so the assumption was automatic.
There was no dramatic conversation. No pressure-filled ultimatum. Just an unspoken understanding: this is what you do.
And for a while, I did exactly that.
I studied science, as expected.
But something else was quietly forming in me — something that didn’t fit neatly into lab coats, textbooks, or exam halls.
The First Glimpse of What I Actually Wanted
Around the age of fourteen, I became deeply drawn to the world of fashion.
At first, I thought I wanted to be a model. But as I looked closer, I realized something important: models weren’t the creators. They were the vessels through which creativity was expressed.
What fascinated me wasn’t being seen — it was creating what was seen.
The silhouettes.
The textures.
The storytelling.
The way a collection could communicate emotion without words.
The textures.
The storytelling.
The way a collection could communicate emotion without words.
That realization was the beginning of my creative identity, even though I didn’t yet have the language for it.
Still, I continued down the path I “should” be on. That path made sense. It was logical. It fit the framework I had inherited.
But then life shifted.
Freedom Changes the Questions We Ask
When I moved to Canada, something subtle but powerful happened.
I gained distance —not just geographical distance, but psychological distance—from expectation.
For the first time, I had the freedom to ask myself a question that had never truly been available before:
What do I want?
That’s when I chose to study fashion design.
Not because it was practical.
Not because it promised security, actually, it was the opposite of security.
But because the process itself felt alive to me.
Not because it promised security, actually, it was the opposite of security.
But because the process itself felt alive to me.
That choice didn’t erase my past. It didn’t invalidate my science background. It simply allowed a different part of me to lead.
And that distinction matters.
This Is Not About Recklessness – Let’s be Clear on that
When we talk about “what you want,” it’s important to be precise.
Not about chasing impulses.
Or about abandoning responsibility.
Definitely not about choosing something harmful, unhealthy, or destructive.
Or about abandoning responsibility.
Definitely not about choosing something harmful, unhealthy, or destructive.
This is about identity alignment.
It’s about understanding who you are beneath conditioning, and allowing space for that truth to exist alongside reality.
Most people misunderstand this and swing to extremes:
- Either they suppress what they want entirely.
- Or they believe they must burn their life down to pursue it.
Neither is necessary.
The First Step: Remove Outcomes From the Equation
If you want clarity, you cannot start with money, status, or outcomes.
You must start with interest.
Sit down with a journal and write freely — without limits, without practicality, without judgment.
Ask yourself:
- What do I genuinely enjoy learning about?
- What topics do I return to again and again?
- What activities make time disappear?
- What do I research even when no one is watching?
Do NOT ask:
- “Can this make money?”
- “Is this a real career?”
- “What will people think?”
Those questions come later — if at all.
At this stage, they only contaminate the truth.
Curiosity Is Not Random — It’s Diagnostic
One thing I’ve learned over time is this:
Your curiosities are not accidents.
Your curiosities are not accidents.
I was interested in fashion long before it became my profession.
I was interested in the stock market from a very young age — long before I invested seriously.
I was interested in the stock market from a very young age — long before I invested seriously.
Writing was my natural passion, and I wrote just to express my thoughts years before I started writing professionally.
So I read.
I watched videos.
I studied quietly.
I watched videos.
I studied quietly.
Not to impress anyone.
Not to monetize immediately.
Not to monetize immediately.
Just because I wanted to understand.
That pattern repeated itself in every area of my life that later became meaningful.
Curiosity is often the earliest signal of alignment, long before confidence, clarity, or courage appear.
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You Don’t Have to Quit Your Life to Honor Yourself
Here’s the part most people miss.
You don’t need to abandon the life you built to start living an emotionally fulfilling one.
You may still have the job you studied for.
You may still meet responsibilities you chose years ago.
You may still meet responsibilities you chose years ago.
But when you begin intentionally making space for what you want, even in small, quiet ways — something shifts internally.
You start reading books that nourish you instead of scrolling through social media.
You spend time learning, hiking, creating, thinking, and exploring.
You travel differently, not to check boxes, but to feel something real.
You spend time learning, hiking, creating, thinking, and exploring.
You travel differently, not to check boxes, but to feel something real.
You stop defaulting to social norms simply because “that’s what people do.”
And slowly, fulfillment returns, not as excitement, but as steadiness.
Emotional Fulfillment Is Often Quiet
An emotionally fulfilled life doesn’t always look impressive.
It often looks like:
- Hours spent reading something deeply interesting
- Learning for the sake of learning
- Creating without pressure
- Being selective with your energy
- Saying no to things that drain you — even if they’re popular
It’s less about achievement and more about coherence.
Your inner life begins to match your outer one.
Living Between “Should” and “Want”
Most of us don’t need to choose one over the other.
We need to integrate them.
“What you should do” often provides structure, stability, and grounding.
“What you want to do” provides meaning, vitality, and emotional truth.
“What you want to do” provides meaning, vitality, and emotional truth.
When both are honored, life stops feeling like performance and starts feeling like participation.
Take away
We were mentally programmed before we were aware.
That doesn’t mean we are trapped.
Growth, at its most elegant, is not rebellion; it’s refinement.
It’s learning to listen more carefully.
It’s choosing alignment over approval.
It’s allowing yourself to want what you want, without justification or monetizing it.
It’s choosing alignment over approval.
It’s allowing yourself to want what you want, without justification or monetizing it.
Because the most fulfilled people are rarely those who meet every expectation perfectly.
They are the ones who learned, slowly and quietly, how to listen to themselves.
