I was driving home the other day when I remembered something: I don’t have to live my life for other people.

This isn’t a new thought, nor is it unique. It’s a thought that has popped up before – one reads about this truth everywhere – but I’ve avoiding dealing with it. The undealt with, however, returns. The thought came back over and over again: it was waiting for me to feel it in my bones.

The truth is both simple and difficult.

I only have to satisfy myself with my choices.

Removing others from the equation didn’t make choice less daunting: even when it affects only me, I struggle to commit to an option. Letting go of the belief that I’m obligated to look after other people’s hopes and fears as I struggle to navigate through life myself can only help: a smaller load is always better.

This doesn’t…