You'sre Allowed to Want More — Even If Everyone Thinks You Have Enough

The Weird Thing About Being a Woman Who Wants More

Here's what nobody talks about: there's this really specific type of shame that comes with being a woman who wants more from life. Like, we're supposed to be happy with whatever we get and asking for more makes us sound like entitled brats.

I see it everywhere. My friend Sarah stays with her boyfriend even though they have nothing in common because "he's nice and treats me well." My coworker Lisa hates her job but won't apply for anything else because "at least it pays the bills." My sister keeps her social circle small because making new friends feels "greedy" when she already has some.

We've been taught that wanting more is selfish. That good women are content women. That if you're not satisfied with okay, there's something wrong with you.

But you know what I think is actually wrong? Living your entire life on other people's definition of "enough."

When "Just Be Grateful" Becomes Toxic

Look, I'm not against gratitude. I keep a gratitude journal, I say thank you to baristas, I appreciate what I have. But somewhere along the way, "be grateful" became a way to shut down any desire for growth or change.

Your relationship is mediocre but he doesn't cheat? Be grateful. Your job is soul-crushing but it has good benefits? Be grateful. Your life feels small but you have a roof over your head? Be grateful.

It's like we're supposed to be grateful for scraps while watching other people feast.

I realized this pattern when my ex's mom told me I should "appreciate" how her son "let me" have my own career. Let me. As if pursuing work I cared about was some generous gift he was bestowing upon me instead of, you know, my basic right as a human being.

That's when it clicked: gratitude had become a cage. And I was the one holding the key.

The Real Reason People Get Weird When You Want More

Want to know why people get so uncomfortable when you start wanting more from life? Because your growth forces them to look at their own settling.

When I left my corporate job to freelance, you should have seen the reactions. Suddenly everyone became a career counselor, reminding me about "stability" and "benefits" and "what if you fail?" But here's what I noticed: the people who were most upset were the ones who hated their own jobs but felt trapped in them.

My wanting more held up a mirror to their own compromises. My willingness to risk comfort for fulfillment made their fear look like what it was: fear.

And that made them uncomfortable as hell.

Why Women Ambition Shame is So Intense

This gets extra weird when you're a woman. Men who want more are "ambitious" and "driven." Women who want more are "never satisfied" and "difficult."

I can't tell you how many times I've been called "picky" for having standards in dating. Or "unrealistic" for wanting work that feels meaningful. Or "high maintenance" for expecting friendships that go deeper than surface-level small talk.

It's like we're supposed to want less so everyone else feels better about giving us less.

My Wake-Up Call About Settling

Two years ago, I was at my college roommate's housewarming party. She'd just bought this gorgeous house with her husband, and everyone kept telling her how "lucky" she was. But I noticed something: she looked miserable.

Later, when we were alone in her kitchen, she told me the truth. The house was her husband's dream, not hers. She'd wanted to travel, maybe live abroad for a while, but he wanted to settle down. So she did. Because that's what you're supposed to want, right?

"I should be happy," she said, staring at her beautiful backsplash. "Everyone says I have everything I need."

That conversation haunted me for weeks. Here was this amazing woman who'd shrunk her dreams to fit someone else's timeline, and everyone was congratulating her for it.

That's when I realized: I never wanted to be standing in my own kitchen, surrounded by everything I was "supposed" to want, feeling empty inside.

What Wanting More Actually Looks Like

Let me be clear about something: when I talk about wanting more, I'm not talking about being a materialistic person who always needs the next shiny thing. That's not what this is about.

Wanting more means wanting a life that actually fits who you are, not who everyone thinks you should be.

It means wanting relationships that energize you instead of drain you. Work that uses your actual talents instead of just paying the bills. Experiences that expand you instead of just filling time. Conversations that go deeper than the weather.

The Small Ways I Started Wanting More

I didn't wake up one day and revolutionize my entire life. It started small:

I stopped ordering salads on dates when I actually wanted pasta. I started speaking up in meetings instead of letting other people take credit for my ideas. I quit saying "maybe next time" to invitations that excited me and started saying "hell yes."

I stopped pretending to like movies I was bored by. I started admitting when I disagreed with people instead of nodding along. I began trusting my gut when something felt off instead of talking myself out of it.

These tiny acts of honoring what I actually wanted taught me something: wanting more isn't selfish. It's self-respect.

The Fear of Wanting More from Life

I get why this is scary. Trust me, I've been there. Wanting more means admitting that what you have isn't working. It means potentially disappointing people who like your life the way it is. It means taking risks.

But you know what's scarier? Spending your whole life being grateful for a life that never really fit you.

What If Everyone Thinks I'm Being Ungrateful?

This was my biggest fear. What if people thought I was spoiled or selfish for wanting more than what I had?

Here's what I learned: the people who matter won't think that. The people who love you want you to be happy, not just grateful. And the people who get upset about your growth? They're usually projecting their own fears about change.

My real friends cheered when I quit my corporate job. My family supported me when I ended a relationship that looked good on paper but felt wrong in my heart. The people who belonged in my life celebrated my expansion.

Everyone else... well, they probably didn't belong there anyway.

Self-Growth Guilt is Not Your Friend

Here's something I had to learn the hard way: feeling guilty about growing is not humility. It's not being "grounded" or "realistic." It's just fear wearing a really good disguise.

I used to feel guilty every time I outgrew something – a job, a friendship, a version of myself that other people were comfortable with. I thought that guilt meant I was staying humble, that I wasn't getting "too big for my britches."

But that guilt wasn't protecting me from anything. It was just keeping me small.

The People Who Benefit From Your Small Dreams

Want to know something that'll make you mad? There are people in your life who benefit from you staying exactly where you are. The boss who underpays you but knows you won't leave. The friend who feels better about herself when you're not doing too well. The family members who need you to be the "responsible one" who never rocks the boat.

These people have a vested interest in your contentment with less-than. They'll be the first ones to remind you to be grateful when you start wanting more.

But their comfort is not your responsibility.

How I Learned to Want Without Apologizing

Learning to want more without feeling like a terrible person took practice. Here's what actually helped:

I Stopped Explaining Myself

This was huge. I used to give long justifications for every decision that involved wanting more. Why I was leaving my job, why I ended a relationship, why I wasn't satisfied with good enough.

But you don't owe anyone an explanation for wanting more from your life. You don't have to convince people that your dreams are valid or your standards are reasonable.

Sometimes "I want something different" is reason enough.

I Found People Who Were Also Growing

I had to get intentional about surrounding myself with people who were also expanding their lives. People who asked about my dreams instead of reminding me to be realistic. People who celebrated my wins instead of warning me about the risks.

Being around other people who refuse to settle makes your own growth feel normal instead of threatening.

I Started Calling It What It Was

Instead of apologizing for wanting more, I started owning it. "I'm not satisfied with this relationship." "I want work that feels meaningful." "I'm looking for friendships that go deeper."

No hedging, no softening, no "I know this sounds crazy but..." Just honest statements about what I wanted.

It felt uncomfortable at first, but it was also incredibly freeing.

The Connection Between Rest and Wanting More

You know what's funny? Learning to rest without feeling guilty and learning to want more are actually connected. Both require you to believe you deserve better than the bare minimum.

Both require you to stop living your life according to other people's expectations and start honoring your actual needs.

Why You Need to Stop Shrinking Yourself

Part of wanting more means taking up the space you deserve. It means refusing to make your dreams smaller so other people feel more comfortable. It means owning your ambitions without apology.

When you shrink yourself to fit other people's expectations, you're not being considerate. You're abandoning yourself.

You're Not Cold, You're Protecting Your Standards

When you start having higher standards for your life – better relationships, more meaningful work, deeper connections – some people will call you "picky" or "cold." They're wrong. You're not cold; you just know what you deserve.

The Art of Doing Less of What Doesn't Serve You

Sometimes wanting more actually means doing less – less people-pleasing, less settling, less accepting of situations that drain your energy. It's about being selective with your life instead of just grateful for whatever comes your way.

What I Want You to Remember

You don't need permission to want more from your life. You don't need to wait until your current situation becomes unbearable. You don't need a "good enough" reason that satisfies other people.

The wanting itself is permission enough.

That restless feeling you sometimes get? That sense that there's more out there for you? That's not ungrateful – that's your soul trying to guide you toward what's actually meant for you.

Here's what I know now: the right people will support your growth. The right opportunities will align with your authentic desires. The right relationships will celebrate your expansion.

Everything else was just practice anyway.

You're allowed to want deeper love, more meaningful work, richer friendships, greater adventures. You're allowed to believe you deserve more than "fine" or "okay" or "at least it's something."

You're allowed to want more, even when everyone thinks you have enough.

Especially when they think you have enough.

FAQ

Isn't wanting more just being greedy?

No. There's a difference between wanting more stuff and wanting more life. We're talking about wanting experiences, growth, connections, and meaning that align with who you really are. That's not greed – that's being human.

What if I hurt people's feelings by wanting more?

The people who truly love you want you to be fulfilled, not just grateful. If someone is hurt by your growth, that says more about their own fears than it does about your choices. You can't live your life trying to manage other people's emotions.

How do I know if my wants are realistic?

Stop worrying about whether they're realistic and start asking if they're authentic. Do these desires come from your core values and genuine dreams, or from comparison and external pressure? Authentic wants are worth pursuing, even if they seem impossible.

What if I'm wrong about what I want?

Then you'll learn something valuable and adjust course. But living a life that feels too small because you're afraid of making the wrong choice isn't really living. You can change direction – you can't get back time spent settling for less than you deserve.