Maybe you should do yourself more
Letting yourself rest. Letting yourself be.
We spend so much of our lives performing.
It starts early. We learn what earns approval, what behaviours are praised, what parts of us are too much, and what truths are better kept quiet. We adjust. We adapt. We shape ourselves around what others expect, sometimes without even realising we’re doing it.
By the time we’re adults, we’ve become experts in performance. Smiling when we’re not okay. Saying yes when we mean no. Wearing ambition like armour and filtering our truth to make it more digestible and presenting versions of ourselves that are polished, likeable, and safe.
But all of that comes at a cost.
Because the longer you live for the gaze of others, the harder it becomes to hear your own voice.
You forget what lights you up. You forget what matters to you. You forget how it feels to be true, not impressive, not validated, not curated, but accurate.
So much of healing is about returning. Peeling back the layers of performance and asking yourself, Who am I, underneath all of this?
That’s where the phrase “Do you for you” becomes more than a cliché. It becomes a life practice. A compass.
Because doing it for you is not selfish, it’s not reckless. It’s not a rejection of love or community.
It’s a return to your own centre.
It’s asking, What would I choose if I wasn’t trying to prove anything?
What would I wear if I wasn’t worried about being on trend?
What would I create if I weren’t chasing applause?
Who would I spend time with if I trusted that being liked wasn’t the same as being loved?
These aren’t easy questions. They force us to confront how much of our life is rooted in external validation. But they also hold incredible power.
Because the truth is, no amount of praise can fill the gap left by self-abandonment.
No amount of followers, awards, or compliments can replace the steady peace that comes from living in alignment with yourself.
Doing you for you means making peace with being misunderstood.
It means knowing that not everyone will get it and being okay with that.
It means trusting that your joy doesn’t need to be justified, that your choices don’t need to be explained to anyone who isn’t living your life.
It means learning to tell the difference between internal guidance and external pressure.
And that kind of living requires courage.
It requires you to stop performing long enough to remember your truth.
To tune back in to what your body tells you, what your creativity longs for, and what your boundaries are trying to teach you.
It means listening to the quiet yes that rises in your chest when you stop chasing someone else’s version of success.
And here’s what happens when you start doing you for you:
You walk differently.
You speak with a little more ease.
You stop asking for permission from people who don’t have your best interest at heart.
You trust yourself more.
Not because you have it all figured out, but because you know you’re living in a place that’s real.
This doesn’t mean you’ll never feel doubt again. It doesn’t mean you’ll never slip back into old patterns.
But it means you’ll notice quicker.
You’ll return faster.
You’ll have a deeper baseline of self-respect that makes it harder to keep betraying your truth.
And the people who love you, the real ones, they won’t leave because you stopped performing. They’ll lean in. They’ll see you more clearly. They’ll meet you at the level of your authenticity, not the mask you used to wear.
Doing you for you also means redefining what success looks like.
It means realising that fulfilment doesn’t always come with fanfare. That sometimes, the most meaningful victories are quiet ones.
Saying no and meaning it.
Taking the walk instead of answering every email.
Turning down the project that pays well but costs too much of your peace.
Letting yourself rest. Letting yourself be. Letting yourself feel joy in a life that doesn’t need to be impressive or meaningful.
So if you’re tired of performing, take this as permission to stop.
You don’t need to be more likeable, more productive, more polished, or more anything.
You need to be more you.
And not for applause.
Not for credit.
Not to prove anything.
But because you’re allowed to be who you are without needing a reason.
Do you.
For you.
Because your peace matters.
Because your truth matters.
Because your life is not a performance; it’s a home.
And you deserve to live in it, fully.
I have been a little quiet here lately, life had me fully present in preparing for my wedding (read more about it). Now that this beautiful chapter has unfolded, I’m feeling ready to share again. Essays and reflections are on their way.