That persistent feeling that something is wrong with you, that you are careless, impulsive, or forever on the brink of making a mistake, is often mistaken for intuition. We call it wisdom. We call it being
responsible. But more often than not, it is something else entirely: the echo of our parents’ voices living inside our nervous system long after they have stopped shaping our daily lives.
Most of us grow up absorbing rules about who we are allowed to be. Some of these rules are explicit. Many are not. Over time, they become internal. They show up as a steady commentary that questions our desires, second-guesses our instincts, and warns us of consequences before we have even taken a step. This voice rarely asks what feels true. It asks what is acceptable. It does not ask what we need. It asks who might be disappointed.
Yet we are born with a deeper kind of intelligence, visceral, physical, almost chemical. A knowing of what nourishes us, what drains us, what makes us feel alive. Our needs sit at the centre of our inner world. Alongside our gifts, they form the blueprint of our lives. Not our circumstances. Not our fears. Our needs and our gifts are the only reliable compass we have.
The difficulty is not that following this compass has consequences. It does. Every meaningful choice does. The difficulty is that many of us were taught to treat our needs as inconveniences, or worse, as moral flaws. So before a desire becomes action, an inner authority intervenes. It cautions. It hesitates. It reminds us of past warnings and future risks. Over time, this voice can become so dominant that we forget how to recognise our own impulses without immediately judging them.
Much of what we call duty or purpose is shaped by environment and conditioning. Family systems, social expectations, and cultural narratives often reward compliance over authenticity. But the human spirit has a remarkable endurance. You cannot indefinitely suppress what is essential to you. When our needs are ignored for too long, they tend to resurface in subtler, more complicated ways: in restlessness, exhaustion, distraction, or a sense that life is being lived at one remove.
Our gifts, too, are often misunderstood. They are not obligations. They are not meant to justify our existence or compensate for it. They exist first to nourish us. When we are well-fed by our own lives, generosity can follow naturally. But care for others is healthiest when it is a choice, not a debt. No one is automatically entitled to the fruits of your time, energy, or creativity, not by blood, not by proximity, not by history. Deciding how and where to offer what you have is part of becoming an adult in the deepest sense.
We speak frequently about healing and self-improvement, but these ideas can be misleading. There is little to improve when we are fundamentally disconnected from ourselves. What is often needed instead is a gentler kind of separation: learning to distinguish between the internalised voices that keep us cautious and the steadier voice that knows what we need. This is not about rebellion. It is about discernment. About recognising which guidance helps us grow and which keeps us small.
You do not need to become someone else. You do not need to reinvent yourself. You need to allow yourself to become more fully who you already are. Beneath the layers of habit and expectation, there is a reserve of courage most of us underestimate. Enough to make choices that are not universally approved. Enough to tolerate uncertainty. Enough to accept that living honestly may cost us comfort or approval at times.
There will always be consequences to choosing yourself. Some relationships may change. Some paths may close. But avoiding these consequences entirely often comes at a greater cost: the slow erosion of vitality and meaning.
Living according to your own values is not recklessness. It is not selfishness. It is a form of responsibility to your own life.
And that is not defiance.
That is freedom.
(The writer is a mental health and behavioural sciences columnist, conducts art therapy workshops and provides personality development sessions for young adults. She can be found @the_millennial_pilgrim on Instagram and Twitter)
