Nothing’s Wrong, But Something’s Off
I’ve been hearing familiar replies from a lot of people lately when I ask how they’re doing. They’ll say things like: “Things are going. Can’t complain.” “We’re so busy. We don’t have time for anything else.” “I have a great life. I should be grateful.”
These aren’t dramatic confessions. They’re the kind of throwaway lines we all use—automatic, safe, practiced. But I’ve started to notice what’s tucked underneath them. A kind of resignation. A subtle lowering of the bar. A quiet belief that you shouldn’t ask for more than what you already have.
These words often come from thoughtful, responsible people. People who do have a good life, and who know it. But in their tone, in the pauses between words, you can hear something else—a gentle ache that never quite gets named. The fact that these kinds of comments are so common—so widespread—makes me think we need to talk about this more.
Because here’s the truth:
You can be surrounded by people and still feel unknown.
You can have a full calendar and still feel like your soul is bored.
You can be deeply grateful for your life and still want something more.
That doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you human. It means some part of you is paying attention. It means you’re awake to the difference between a life that functions and a life that feels full. But this feeling, the soft, hard-to-name longing for depth or connection or rest, doesn’t come with easy answers. It doesn’t fit neatly into a to-do list. There’s no app or shortcut or productivity hack that will solve it. Sometimes, it’s just there. A quiet knock on the door of your awareness. A whisper asking: Will you notice me?
And if you do notice it, then what?
That’s where I’ve been sitting this week—with that question. What does it mean to hold a good life in one hand, and a longing for more in the other? How do we give ourselves permission to acknowledge both? Sometimes the first step isn’t to solve it. It isn’t to journal about it or make a plan or figure anything out. Sometimes it’s just to name it. To say: Something’s missing. I don’t know exactly what, but I’m ready for more. Or: I’m not as fulfilled as I want to be—and I’d like that to change. That alone can be the beginning of something good.
So if this resonates with you, I want you to know:
You’re not ungrateful.
You’re not broken.
You’re not needy or dramatic or asking too much.
You’re awake. You’re listening. And that matters.
There might not be a five-step plan or a tidy solution waiting on the other side. But something always shifts when we stop pretending everything’s fine and start trusting that our longings deserve a voice.
