‘I thought I had everything I wanted — until one quiet summer afternoon changed the questions I was asking’

Words: Kellie Gillespie-Wright. Images: Shutterstock.

When summer is in full swing, the tempo changes. The days are longer, the pace softens, and the usual daily rush fades into the background. Life feels a little lighter, and there’s room to breathe and gather your thoughts.

Sometimes, that’s when a different kind of thinking starts to surface — thoughts that usually get drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the day-to-day, but are always there, niggling away at the back of your mind.

Maybe you’re reading this on holiday, or you’re barefoot in the garden with a drink in hand. The to-do list is out of sight and your time is your own.

And in that calm, questions begin to rise: what do I really want from this life? Am I where I want to be? What’s next? Not the urgent kind of ‘what next?’ that pushes us through busy days, chasing the next task or milestone, but something quieter. A moment of honesty: does the life I’ve built still fit? Are the things I’m chasing truly mine?

We talk a lot about goals, plans, and success. But often, what we’re really circling is something deeper: who am I, and what is my purpose? Purpose isn’t always a bold mission or perfect career fit.

Sometimes it’s quieter, more responsive, more personal. But it’s easy to confuse what’s meaningful with what’s merely acceptable: the job that looks good but leaves you flat, the relationship that seems solid but doesn’t quite satisfy you, or the role that once made sense but now feels like it belongs to someone else.

‘Sometimes what we think we want is just the most socially acceptable version of what we’re actually aching for,’ says Charlotte Fox Weber, psychotherapist and author of What We Want (Wildfire, £20). And often, what we think we want isn’t really ours. It’s been shaped by fear, comparison, or other people’s expectations.

Psychologists call it introjection, the early, subtle absorption of other people’s values until they feel like your own. But you don’t need the terminology to know the feeling: that slow drift away from yourself, the life that ticks every box and looks fine on paper but still feels incomplete.

‘You’ve probably felt it,’ Fox Weber adds. ‘That question that keeps returning in quieter moments: “Is this really what I want?”’ Emma Hackett sees it all the time. As a coach who works with people at crossroads such as career changes or life transitions, she’s familiar with that ache.

‘When someone’s life isn’t aligned with who they really are, they eventually feel disconnected,’ she says. ‘They might have the success they were taught to want, but not the sense of meaning they’re quietly craving.’

Often she traces the roots of misalignment back to early life, when we absorb expectations before we’re old enough to question them. Spoken or not, they shape us. And as Fox Weber points out, the classics show up everywhere. ‘“Be productive. Be impressive. Be selfless, but also self-actualised. Have a calling, a mortgage, and a perfectly balanced life.”

‘Then there are the quieter scripts: “Be the good one, the dependable one, the one who never asks for too much.” These are roles we play so automatically, we forget they’re performances.’ Hackett agrees: ‘We absorb expectations early, often before we’re old enough to question them. Even when they’re unspoken, they shape us. And years later, we find ourselves living out choices we didn’t even realise we made.’

That’s why getting clear on your values isn’t just a self-help exercise. It’s a return to yourself. A way to remember what felt true before the noise, before the expectations, before you started editing your wants to fit the world. Of course, clarity is only the beginning.

‘Identifying authentic values is relatively straight-forward,’ Hackett says. ‘But honouring those values and living in line with them to find the fulfilment we seek is not always easy.’ It can also feel daunting, especially if you’re not sure what change might look like. Hackett suggests starting with a vision, no matter how rough.

‘If you had a magic wand and everything was just as you wanted, what would your life look and feel like?’ she asks. ‘Often this is enough to give you the energy to move towards the future of your choosing.’ If it’s not, she suggests turning toward what’s getting in the way. Gently, without judgment, explore the barriers.

The fears, the old beliefs, the stories you’ve inherited about what’s possible or allowed. Sometimes the problem isn’t confusion. It’s fear dressed up as doubt. You might already know what you want, but the risks feel too big, the path too uncertain, the change too costly. So you stay still. Not because you don’t care, but because moving forward feels unsafe.

Naming those fears doesn’t make them disappear, but it makes them visible. And that’s the first step in loosening their grip. As you do this work, something deeper starts to emerge. A way of navigating life that’s based less on what you’ve been told and more on what you feel.

‘To live meaningfully now means being awake to what actually moves you,’ Fox Weber says. ‘Not what you were told should move you. Not what looks good on paper. Not what scores the most likes. It means paying attention to your inner life with the same seriousness we often reserve for career goals or other people’s approval.’

That kind of presence doesn’t come from perfection. It comes from attention. From slowing down enough to notice what lifts you and what wears you out. Where you feel most alive, and where you shut down. The goal isn’t to judge or fix. It’s to see clearly. Because that’s where clarity begins. ‘Start with what you feel, not what you think you should do,’ Fox Weber continues.

‘Where are you numb? Where are you secretly bitter, or oddly envious? Those are clues. Track what energises you and what depletes you, without judgement. Before we fix, we need to see. And there’s something about the longer daylight hours that makes now a powerful time to start paying attention.’

She suggests beginning with what doesn’t sit right. ‘Pay attention to your ambivalence,’ she says. ‘If something “should” feel fulfilling but leaves you drained, that’s a sign. Ask: “does this want feel like a pull or a pressure?”’

From there, notice the emotional texture of your wants. ‘Joy, curiosity, even a little fear, that’s often the pull of something real,’ she continues. ‘Guilt, duty, or the buzz of performance? That’s the pressure of someone else’s story.’

You don’t need all the answers to begin. You just need a little space, a little honesty, and the willingness to follow what feels true. To notice what you truly want, and start adjusting your path toward it. That’s where change begins.

Charlotte Fox Weber is an integrative psychotherapist and the author of What We Want (Wildfire, £20). charlottefoxweber.co.uk