WHOSE LIFE ARE YOU LIVING?

When expectations become a life plan you never consciously chose.

There's a rather extraordinary thing about growing up.

Nobody actually hands you a written set of instructions for how to live your life.

And yet, somehow, most of us acquire one.

Work hard.

Get good qualifications.

Find a respectable job.

Earn a decent salary.

Buy a house.

Find a partner.

Have children.

Be responsible.

Don't make a fuss.

Don't disappoint people.

Don't get too big for your boots.

And whatever you do, make sure you're doing well compared with everyone else.

Of course, the instructions vary depending on our families, cultures, communities and circumstances.

But somewhere along the way, we absorb an enormous number of ideas about what a successful, respectable or worthwhile life is supposed to look like.

And the interesting thing is that we don't always stop to question them.

What if you've been working towards a version of success that somebody else decided was important?

The invisible rulebook

Think about some of the things you believe you should be doing.

You should have a successful career.

You should own a house.

You should be married.

You should be a good parent.

You should be financially secure.

You should look after everyone.

You should stay slim.

You should be productive.

You should be grateful.

You should be ambitious.

You should be content with what you've got.

Rather confusingly, we're often expected to be ambitious and content at exactly the same time.

These expectations can become so familiar that we mistake them for our own values.

We don't necessarily think, "My family believes this is important."

We think, "This is what I ought to do."

And there's a significant difference.

Where do these expectations come from?

Our beliefs about how life should be lived develop through many influences.

Our parents and family.

Our education.

Our culture.

Our friendships.

Our communities.

Religion and tradition.

The media.

Social expectations.

And the experiences we've had throughout our lives.

We learn what earns praise.

What attracts criticism.

What makes people proud of us.

What disappoints them.

What is considered respectable.

And what might make us stand out.

Some of these lessons are enormously valuable.

They can encourage kindness, responsibility, hard work, honesty and consideration for others.

But some may become restrictive.

Perhaps you grew up believing that a respectable career was more important than enjoying your work.

That putting yourself first was selfish.

That a successful marriage must last forever.

That changing direction meant you'd failed.

That money was the main measure of achievement.

Or that women of a certain age should dress, behave and live in a particular way.

You may never have consciously chosen these beliefs.

But they can still influence your decisions.

The life you were supposed to have

Many of us grow up with an imagined picture of adulthood.

Perhaps it involves a particular career.

A marriage.

Children.

A beautiful home.

Financial security.

Holidays.

Retirement.

And, ideally, a Labrador.

There's nothing wrong with wanting any of these things.

But life doesn't always follow the expected pattern.

Relationships end.

Careers change.

Children take different paths.

Health challenges arise.

Circumstances shift.

And sometimes, we simply discover that what we once wanted no longer fits who we've become.

That can create a strange sense of failure.

Not necessarily because our actual life is bad.

But because it doesn't match the picture we thought it was supposed to resemble.

Sometimes we're grieving the life we expected, even while beginning to appreciate the life we actually have.

Both feelings can exist together.

When being 'good' becomes an identity

Perhaps you've always been the responsible one.

The dependable one.

The peacemaker.

The successful one.

The person who looks after everybody else.

The one who never causes trouble.

These roles can become part of our identity.

And they may have served us well.

But what happens when the role starts to feel restrictive?

What if the dependable person wants to say no?

What if the successful person wants to change careers?

What if the peacemaker wants to express anger?

What if the person who has spent decades looking after everyone else wants some time for herself?

Suddenly, doing something different can feel uncomfortable.

Even selfish.

Not necessarily because the choice is wrong.

But because it challenges the version of ourselves that other people have come to expect.

And perhaps the version we've come to expect too.

The pressure to keep everyone happy

One of the difficulties with living according to other people's expectations is that those expectations don't always agree.

Your parents may want one thing.

Your partner may want another.

Your children may have their own ideas.

Your friends may offer enthusiastic opinions.

Society may have an entirely different set of rules.

And somewhere in the middle is you.

Trying to keep everyone happy.

Which is an admirable ambition.

And, unfortunately, an impossible one.

There will be times when making a choice that's right for you disappoints someone else.

That doesn't automatically mean you've made the wrong decision.

Equally, personal freedom doesn't mean ignoring your responsibilities or the people affected by your choices.

The challenge is finding a balance between respecting others and remaining honest about your own needs and values.

You can care deeply about other people's feelings without making their approval the organising principle of your life.

Success according to whom?

Imagine two people.

One has a prestigious job, a large salary, an impressive house and a diary packed with professional commitments.

The other works fewer hours, earns less money, enjoys meaningful relationships, spends time outdoors and has considerable freedom.

Which one is more successful?

There isn't a universal answer.

It depends on what matters to each person.

For some, professional achievement and financial success are deeply meaningful.

For others, flexibility, creativity, family time or independence matter more.

And many people want a combination.

The problem arises when we use somebody else's definition of success to measure our own lives.

Perhaps you've achieved everything you were supposed to achieve.

But you still feel strangely dissatisfied.

Or perhaps you're enjoying a life that suits you, yet feel inadequate because it doesn't look impressive enough from the outside.

A successful life isn't necessarily one that looks successful to other people.

The midlife reassessment

Midlife can be a particularly interesting time to question inherited expectations.

By this stage, we may have spent decades fulfilling roles.

Building careers.

Raising children.

Supporting partners.

Managing households.

Meeting responsibilities.

Doing what needed to be done.

And then something changes.

The children become more independent.

A relationship ends.

A career loses its appeal.

A parent becomes ill.

We experience a health scare.

Or we simply begin to wonder whether we want the next twenty years to look like the previous twenty.

The question becomes less about what we're supposed to do.

And more about what we genuinely want.

That can feel exciting.

But also unsettling.

Because when you've spent years following a familiar script, deciding what you want for yourself can be surprisingly difficult.

'I'm too old for that'

Here's a particularly persistent social rule.

At a certain age, apparently, we're supposed to stop doing certain things.

Wearing particular clothes.

Starting new careers.

Learning new skills.

Taking risks.

Going to festivals.

Dancing.

Dating.

Changing our minds.

Being adventurous.

Who exactly decided this?

And where is the official list?

Age can bring genuine practical considerations.

Our health, finances and responsibilities may influence what's realistic.

But there is a difference between recognising practical limitations and accepting arbitrary rules about what people of a particular age are allowed to enjoy.

Perhaps the more useful question isn't:

"Am I too old?"

But:

"Is this something I genuinely want to do, and how could I make it work?"

When your values and your life don't quite match

One way to explore whether you're living according to your own priorities is to look at your values.

Values are the qualities and directions that matter to you.

They might include:

• Connection and family

• Freedom and independence

• Creativity and curiosity

• Security and stability

• Kindness and contribution

• Adventure and enjoyment

• Learning and personal growth

• Health and wellbeing

There are no universally correct answers.

And values can sometimes compete.

You might value security and adventure.

Independence and connection.

Achievement and balance.

Family and personal freedom.

The aim isn't to find a perfect life where every value is satisfied all the time.

It's to recognise what's important and make more conscious choices about how you live.

For example, if you value connection but spend nearly all your time working, there may be a gap worth exploring.

If you value creativity but haven't made anything for years, perhaps something is missing.

If you value independence but constantly seek reassurance before making decisions, that might be worth noticing.

Not as another reason to criticise yourself.

But as an invitation to reflect.

You don't have to reject everything you were taught

Questioning inherited expectations doesn't mean rejecting your family, upbringing or culture.

Many of the values we've inherited may be deeply meaningful.

Perhaps your parents taught you the importance of honesty.

Hard work.

Generosity.

Loyalty.

Education.

Responsibility.

These may be principles you genuinely want to carry forward.

The point isn't to rebel against every expectation.

It's to distinguish between the ones you've consciously chosen and the ones you're following simply because they've always been there.

You can honour your upbringing without allowing it to dictate every decision.

You can appreciate tradition while making room for change.

And you can love the people who shaped you while choosing a different path.

What does the psychology tell us?

Several psychological ideas help explain how expectations influence identity and behaviour.

Social learning: We develop attitudes and behaviours partly through observing other people, including the models and expectations present in our early environments.

Self-determination theory: Research suggests that autonomy — experiencing our actions as personally endorsed and meaningful — is an important psychological need associated with wellbeing.

Introjected regulation: We sometimes pursue goals because of internal pressure, guilt, shame or the need to maintain self-esteem, rather than because we genuinely endorse them.

Social comparison: We often evaluate our achievements and circumstances relative to other people, which can influence our sense of success or inadequacy.

Identity development: Our understanding of who we are evolves throughout adulthood as we encounter new experiences, responsibilities and life transitions.

Values-based action: Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) explores how identifying personally meaningful values can help guide behaviour, even when difficult thoughts or emotions are present.

These ideas don't mean we can or should ignore social expectations entirely.

We live within families, communities and cultures, and our choices affect other people.

But they highlight the importance of making decisions with awareness rather than simply following inherited assumptions.

A little coaching reflection

Take a moment to think about the life you're living.

1. What does success mean to me?

Not what it means to my family, friends or society. What does it genuinely mean to me?

2. What expectations have I inherited?

What messages did I absorb growing up about work, money, relationships, appearance, family and achievement?

3. Which expectations still serve me?

Which reflect values I genuinely want to keep?

4. Which expectations feel restrictive?

Where do I find myself doing things mainly because I believe I should?

5. Whose approval matters most to me?

How much influence does that have over my decisions?

6. Where might my current life be out of alignment with my values?

What feels important but isn't receiving much attention?

7. If I felt free to choose, what might I do differently?

What would a life that felt more authentically mine look like?

Try this: The inherited rulebook

Write down five statements you've absorbed about how life should be lived.

They might begin with:

"A successful person should…"

"A good parent should…"

"At my age, I should…"

"People like me don't…"

"I must never…"

Now examine each one.

The rule I've been followingWhere might it have come from?Do I still want to live by it?1.2.3.4.5.

Choose one rule you'd like to question.

Ask yourself:

"If I were writing this rule for myself today, what would it say?"

Perhaps:

"I must always put everyone else first."

Becomes:

"I want to care for others while also recognising my own needs."

Or:

"Changing careers at my age would be irresponsible."

Becomes:

"I can explore new opportunities while making sensible decisions about financial security."

Or:

"I should be further ahead by now."

Becomes:

"I'm allowed to define progress according to what matters to me."

You don't have to overturn your life.

Sometimes changing the way you think about one expectation can open up new possibilities.

A final thought

Imagine reaching the end of your life and looking back.

Would you want to feel that you'd lived according to your own values?

That you'd made choices you could stand behind?

That you'd allowed yourself to explore the things that mattered to you?

Or that you'd spent much of your time trying to satisfy a collection of expectations you never really questioned?

Of course, none of us lives entirely independently of other people.

We have responsibilities.

Relationships.

Commitments.

And sometimes we make compromises because we care about those around us.

That's part of life.

But perhaps there's a difference between making a conscious compromise and gradually disappearing into everybody else's expectations.

You don't have to abandon the life you've built.

You don't have to reject your upbringing.

And you certainly don't have to become an entirely different person.

Perhaps you simply need to become more curious about the choices you're making.

Which ones feel like yours?

Which ones feel inherited?

Which ones still fit?

And which might be ready for reconsideration?

You only get one life. It seems a shame to spend it following a script you never consciously agreed to.

And if you discover that you genuinely love your career, your house, your routines, your responsibilities and your sensible shoes?

Wonderful.

Keep them.

The important thing is that they're your choice.

Although perhaps you could occasionally try a slightly less sensible pair of shoes.

Just to see what happens.

Sources and further reading

• Bandura, A. (1977). Social Learning Theory. Prentice Hall.

• Ryan, R. M. & Deci, E. L. (2000). Self-Determination Theory and the Facilitation of Intrinsic Motivation, Social Development, and Well-Being. American Psychologist, 55(1), 68–78.

• Deci, E. L. & Ryan, R. M. (1985). Self-Determination Theory. In Intrinsic Motivation and Self-Determination in Human Behavior. Plenum Press.

• Festinger, L. (1954). A Theory of Social Comparison Processes. Human Relations, 7(2), 117–140.

• McAdams, D. P. (2001). The Psychology of Life Stories. Review of General Psychology, 5(2), 100–122.

• Hayes, S. C., Strosahl, K. D. & Wilson, K. G. (2012). Acceptance and Commitment Therapy: The Process and Practice of Mindful Change. Guilford Press.

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