What Is My Why?

What is my why?

At first, it feels simple: to earn more, to build a home, to offer rest to the ones I love.
But beneath that, something stirs.
Should my why be bigger?
To help others.
To teach, not just give.
To hold space, not just hold people accountable.

But even that gets complicated.
Am I trying to help because I was hurt?
Because I want to prove that others take advantage, too?
Is my why rooted in justice—or in the ache of being misunderstood?

I’ve read that what you focus on expands.
Think about a certain car, and suddenly it’s everywhere.
So how do I reframe what I’m thinking about?
How do I shift the lens from scarcity to possibility?

Maybe the answer lies in aiming higher.
In choosing something greater than myself.
But what is greater than me?
Humanity?
Spirituality?
Destiny?
The quiet act of making this world a little softer?

Maybe I start by showing I care.
By learning to trust.
Not blindly, but bravely.
By helping others learn—not just systems, but the art of bending without breaking.

That’s hard for me.
I like structure.
I like rules.
I like the line to be clear.

But maybe growth lives in the blur.
In the push and pull.
In the tension between wanting to make people happy and needing to set boundaries.

Have I given up on myself?
In some ways, yes.
But I’m still learning.
Maybe not the “right” things.
Maybe not fast enough.
But I’m learning.

And maybe being unreasonable isn’t a flaw.
Maybe it’s a sign that I’m not content with the way things are.
Maybe it’s the first step toward making them better.