Sometimes I Wish I Didn't Have Ambition

Maybe some dreams really don't need to come alive, but here I am again.

I just finished crying.

It’s 9:14 AM on a Monday morning, and I’m already exhausted. Not sleepy-tired, but mentally and emotionally spent. The kind of tired that makes your shoulders heavy, even when you're lying down.

I just found out that the files for a project I’ve been working on for over 4 months are basically useless. Not because they were done wrong, but because they weren’t done at all. The person responsible didn’t raise any flags, didn’t check the folder, didn’t even get started. I’d been asking for updates for over a month, and they gave me the impression that everything was in motion. But today, a few days to the deadline, we’re just finding out the sad truth. Nothing was done. I don’t even know where to start.

And what’s worse? This isn’t just any project.

It’s something I ideated almost three years ago. I started laying the groundwork about a year ago, slowly and intentionally. It’s one of those ideas that stayed stuck in my head (tugging at me at random moments) until I finally decided to bring it to life. I’ve put my own money, time, brain, and heart into it. And now, it’s falling apart again. It’s been falling apart for weeks, and I’ve been coming up with solutions at every turn, but this is beyond me. The creatives on this project are understandably irritated; this delay is affecting their own timelines, and honestly, I wouldn’t blame them for walking away.

I’ve been joking with friends that I should’ve just used the money to buy a car. But I know I wouldn’t have felt fulfilled. I care too much about building; about doing things that matter. I don’t know how to leave ideas alone. It’s almost like I enjoy being under pressure. Like I need it to feel alive. And that’s the part that scares me.

Sometimes I wonder:
What if I was okay with average?

People think ambition is this shiny, exciting thing. And sometimes, it is. But most of the time, it’s just… exhausting.
It’s pressure no one put on you, but you carry it anyway.
It’s hitting milestones and barely celebrating them because your brain already moved on to the next one.
It’s craving softness, but not knowing how to live in it without guilt.
It’s looking around and realizing you don’t even know what rest really looks like.

Sometimes I envy people who can clock out and mean it. People who don’t care to be the best, or the first, or the one who changed things. People who just… live.

But instead, I have ambition; this beautiful, cursed thing I carry like a second skin. It’s given me so much, and taken just as much too. And no matter how tired I get, I keep showing up for it.

Anyway, I’m going to stand up now. I’m going to shower, pretend like things aren’t falling apart, and go to work, because there are people who depend on me to stay sane (even while I’m quietly losing my mind in the background).

One day, we’ll unpack the realities of being an ambitious woman navigating relationships or trying to build a family. One day.