Unraveling from the quiet grip of expectations

“Nothing is enough for the man to whom enough is too little.” – Epicurus

I’ve found that the less I own, the freer I feel.

In a world that often equates success with accumulation ― more money, more possessions, more everything ― choosing less can feel like a radical act. But for me, simplicity is about more than rebellion. It’s about clarity, alignment, and carving out a path that feels true.

Before we dive in, I want to make a key distinction. I’m not talking about surviving with less because of lack or scarcity. It’s about a conscious choice to simplify and strip away the excess while still meeting your needs and honoring your wants.

Duane Elgin describes this mindset well in his book Voluntary Simplicity. It’s not minimalism as aesthetics or discipline for its own sake. It’s a values-driven lens through which you evaluate your life. What supports the version of life you want to build, and what distracts from it?

That’s the heart of it: intentionality.

Letting go of the excess creates room for what really matters.

The unwritten route

I’ve always been drawn to the idea of simple living. It’s an approach that aligns with who I am and how I choose to experience the world. It’s an instinct, a pull toward ease and space.

I grew up in a suburban middle-class household with a fairly traditional blueprint: do well in school, go to college, land a stable job, and retire comfortably. It’s a framework that promises security and stability. But as I moved along this path, I began to feel a disconnect.

When I entered the corporate world, it became even more apparent that this wasn’t the life I wanted. I spent a few years in the corporate finance, and it was there that I felt more out of place than ever before. The high-pressure, profit-driven environment was at odds with my values, leaving me questioning whether I was sacrificing more than I was gaining.

So I stepped off.

Choosing simplicity wasn’t about opting out of ambition. It was about redefining it. It was a return to myself and to what actually felt good and meaningful, instead of what looked good on paper.

I know not everyone will relate to my story, and that’s okay. The details aren’t the point.

What matters is the underlying truth: you can build a life that looks different from what’s expected. One that’s rooted in your values instead of someone else’s checklist.

Small actions, big shifts

If the idea of simplifying resonates with you, the next step isn’t to throw everything out or move off-grid. It’s to notice.

Start small. What feels heavy or unnecessary? What part of your routine makes you feel stuck? What are you holding onto out of habit, not joy?

For me, it started with daily choices. Living in smaller spaces. Cooking simple meals at home. Shopping secondhand instead of chasing trends. Opting out of the pressure to upgrade everything, all the time. These weren’t sacrifices, they were liberations.

The less I needed, the more freedom I gained.

And more than anything, I gained time ― to think, to explore, to be outside, to create. These days, I spend that time chasing my passions and building my work around things I care about. I’m not hustling to afford things I don’t actually want. I know what enough looks like for me.

Voluntary simplicity isn’t about deprivation. It’s about direction.

There’s no single right way to do it. What feels simple and aligned for me might look very different from what feels right for you. That’s the beauty of it. You get to decide.

The most important thing is to not be afraid to question the path you're on, rewrite the rules, and design a life that feels more like yours.

Because when your life feels like yours ― when it reflects your values and not just what’s available or expected ― there’s a deep, lasting kind of peace that comes with it.

Room to breathe

One of the most unexpected gifts of this lifestyle? The way it’s supported my work as a solopreneur.

When you simplify, you naturally reduce your financial overhead. You don’t need to earn as much to feel stable. That changes everything.

It gives you room to experiment. You can take creative risks, start small projects, and try things without the constant pressure to monetize every moment or scale as fast as possible. That’s a rare kind of privilege and it’s available not only through wealth, but also through intentional design.

Simplicity isn’t just about consuming less. It’s about creating more of what matters.

It’s a shift in how you define success. Not by volume or visibility, but by resonance ― how well your work and life align with who you really are. That alignment becomes fuel. It’s what keeps you going when the work gets hard or slow. It’s what keeps you grounded when the noise ramps up.

I know firsthand how tempting it is to compare your progress to someone else’s highlight reel, especially in the world of online business. But here’s the truth I keep coming back to: I’d rather build something slow and rooted than rush into something that leaves me burned out and disconnected.

Simplicity makes that possible. It quiets the noise so you can hear yourself again.

The quiet resistance

We’re living in unpredictable times. Jobs are disappearing, wealth is consolidating, institutions feel less stable than ever. And while we can’t control those forces, we can control how we respond.

To me, simplicity is a form of quiet resistance. A way of saying: I don’t need to play a game that’s rigged. I can opt out. I can build something smaller, slower, and more sustainable. And I can thrive in it.

When you combine voluntary simplicity with a location-flexible, values-driven business, you create something powerful: resilience.

You become less reliant on systems that weren’t built for you in the first place. You gain flexibility, autonomy, and the ability to adapt when things shift because your foundation isn’t built on maxed-out expenses or performative success.

This isn’t about doom and gloom. It’s about empowerment.

The more we can simplify, downshift, and cultivate our own self-reliance ― creatively, financially, emotionally ― the better equipped we are to handle whatever comes next.

And if there’s one thing I believe more strongly than ever, it’s this: you don’t have to wait for permission to start.

You can question the path you’re on.

You can rewrite the rules.

You can build something slower, more meaningful, more you. And in doing so, you create a life that isn’t just sustainable, but deeply satisfying.

This is how we move forward ― not with noise or urgency, but with quiet, steady intention.

This is how we find freedom.

That’s all for this one.

Thanks for reading. I hope it helped.

TLDR: Beyond the shoulds — finding clarity in your own pace.

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On the other side of hesitation