A simple life frightens us

What if your constant tension and striving aren’t strength, but fear?

A simple life frightens us. Not because it is boring, but because in it we become far too visible to ourselves. Without constant tension, it is harder to explain why life feels difficult. Without heroism, it is harder to justify exhaustion. Without struggle, the familiar noise disappears, the noise behind which we have been hiding for years.

This is especially familiar to men. We were taught to run, endure, and win. If it doesn’t hurt, you’re not trying hard enough. If things feel calm, it means you’ve relaxed - and you’ll lose soon.

And our neuroses only add fuel to the fire. The fear of not being enough. The fear of stopping and suddenly feeling emptiness. Of seeing that even without achievements, you are still left alone with yourself.

That’s why we choose complexity. Instead of slowing down, we speed everything up. We take on more than we can carry. We live in constant self-control and call it responsibility. We confuse exhaustion with character, and excessive anxiety with ambition.

This isn’t only about men. Women, in my view, also often live on the edge, just in a different form. Being better. Trying harder. Sacrificing themselves. The mechanism is the same. Living through tension, because otherwise it feels like life doesn’t “count.”

But… at some point a question arises: who am I if I don’t need to prove that I can endure? Who do I become when I stop running?

If you find the courage to answer honestly, the answer is simple - and not very pleasant. A life held together solely by tension and inner pressure is not strength. It is a neurotic habit.

I believe true maturity begins when you allow yourself to live without constant self-pressure. Not because you gave up, but because you stopped fighting yourself.