Choosing YOU and Why You Must

Do you know what happens when you start making choices that prioritize your best interests? You lose people. You lose support. And, for a time, your life may feel like it’s unraveling.

Why? Because most people build their circle around self-sacrifice, self-abandonment, and self-compromise. The ultimate act of selflessness—putting someone else’s needs before your own—is what we humans do to keep the peace. It’s the status quo we fight to maintain. And it plays out like this:
“I’ll do some of what I like, some of what you like, and even some of what I don’t like—for you. In return, you’ll do some of what you don’t like for me. And voilà! We’ll have a happy, balanced relationship.”

Sound like fiction? That’s because it is. People aren’t designed to be humble—humility comes from going through trauma and not allowing yourself to become a victim. Those who haven’t been through enough or have chosen to be the victim will take all your sacrifice and toss you crumbs of support, just enough to create the illusion of reciprocation.

But it’s not always so cut and dry, is it? What happens when putting yourself first creates tension with your children’s desires? Or when it clashes with your partner’s expectations? These are the moments that make choosing yourself feel like an act of betrayal. You’ll face pushback—not only because people resist change, but because everyone is the main character in their own story. When your evolution disrupts their script, they feel personally attacked. Like, “Hey, this isn’t your scene to rewrite—I make the changes.”

If you find yourself stuck in a loop of sacrifice, realizing it’s time to choose yourself a bit more, then keep reading. And if you don’t? Keep reading anyway—you’ve made it this far.

There’s a fine line between what is best for “me” and what is best for “us.”

Here are three questions I urge you to ask yourself as you navigate this delicate balance. Because while choosing yourself is necessary, it doesn’t require disregarding the feelings of others. True self-honoring allows room for compassion—it asks that we grant the people in our lives the same grace we seek when they choose themselves, too.

Question 1: Will this decision bring me closer to my life purpose?

This is a big one. And while everyone’s goals and sense of purpose are unique, the simple, undeniable truth is this: at the core of every human life is the same calling—to realize the highest expression of yourself.

You are one in a trillion, dear reader. That makes it your duty—no, your sacred obligation—to become all you were created to be, by any means necessary. Imagine a tree that produces a rare, one-of-a-kind fruit—unlike any other tree in the world. Now picture that tree, in its own misguidedness, choosing not to bear fruit. Or worse, planting itself in soil so toxic that the fruit rots before it can ripen. It wouldn’t make sense, would it?

If the decision in front of you will bring you closer to your true self—the person you are deep down and all you are destined to become—then let the chips fall where they may. Choose growth. Choose purpose. Choose you.

Question 2: Who benefits from this decision?

When you’re course-correcting and finally putting yourself first, it’s important to take stock of the ripple effect. Map it out. Who else will benefit from you choosing to live the life you deserve?

If it’s truly a positive paradigm shift with your best interest at heart, it will benefit those you love most in the long run—even if it causes discomfort at first. Don’t fixate on the initial pain or temporary upheaval. When you uproot a tree to replant it in fertile soil, the tree will think its life is over. During the journey, can’t you almost hear it lamenting?
“They’ve killed me. I’ll die in this truck, with nothing left but the roots that once clung to my home.”

But the tree is wrong. It’s not dying—it’s being transported to thrive. Yes, there is turbulence when you change elevation. Yes, it’s disorienting. But growth demands it.

Here’s a truth I’ve learned after nearly 35 years on this planet:

Your new life is going to cost you your old one.
You can’t keep both sets of keys.

Surrendering the old keys may feel liberating at first—you finally get to toss out all the uncomfortable things: the fruit flies in the kitchen, the creaky steps, the broken doors, the musty living room. But here’s the hard part:
You also have to let go of the comfortable things. The cozy couch, the paintings that hold memories, the perfectly good food in the cabinets. The good and the bad both have to go. And that’s what makes the transition so hard.

But you’re strong. You’ve got what it takes.
So when you ask yourself, “Who benefits from this decision?” remember—your future self does. And so will everyone you love when they witness the person you become.

Question 3: What will happen if you don’t make a change?

In my opinion, this is the most crucial question of the three—and right now, I’m virtually holding your shoulder. Go there in thought, completely. Extrapolate it out—all the way to ten years from now.

Imagine you do nothing differently than what you’ve been doing. What does your life look like? Where are you emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually? Take yourself through a day in that life. It’s 6:00 am, and you’re waking up to the same routine—the same version of yourself—because you never decided to put yourself first. Walk through the motions, hour by hour, until you get to 11:00 pm. Now, pause and remember: it won’t be the same as your current experience. It will be worse.

The stagnation will settle in. The negative emotions, the unmet needs, the quiet grief of soul neglect—they will triple in weight. You’ll carry the burden of every choice you didn’t make, every boundary you didn’t hold, and every version of yourself you never allowed to emerge.

Here’s the hard truth: neglecting your soul’s whispers has grave consequences. And one of the most tragic of all is this: you will have nothing to show for it.
There is no award for not choosing yourself.

Just a black-and-white portrait hanging in the gallery of your mind—a faded version of you that never came to life.

I hope this sounds as dramatic as I intend it to be, because choosing yourself shouldn’t be a choice—it should be a given. Life is never neutral. It is either sweet or bitter. There is no bland existence. You are either waking up excited for the day—for the people in it, for the work you do, for the space you occupy—or you are not.

And here’s the thing: the people who are fulfilled by their paradigm aren’t the ones with the most money, prestige, or achievements. They are the ones with the most wisdom.

Let me tell you the difference between intelligence and wisdom.
A smart person will share their insight.
A wise person will be their insight.

Become, dear reader.
When you live life aligned with what makes your heart sing, you don’t just exist—you become. You step into a state of constant evolution, ever-expanding into higher, fuller, more magnificent versions of yourself.

What’s the Point, Maria?

What if I do or don’t live up to the highest expression of myself?

What if I just want to settle for good enough?

Those are good questions—the kind worth asking. And full disclosure? I’ve been there. More than once. Which is exactly why I’m so passionate about this subject.

You see, you absolutely can cave in. You can take the easy route—the comfort zone life you’re used to. But here’s the thing about comfort zones: they’re just that—zones.
And just like in transportation, zones aren’t the real road.

Picture this: you’re driving down the highway, and you pass a construction zone. The orange cones mark off temporary territory, a place you’re meant to move through—not park in. Outside those cones is dangerous ground—unfinished pavement, uneven surfaces. But here’s the kicker: the zone eventually ends. It always does.

And when it does? The catalyst is often a moment of unmet expectation—the final blow that shatters the illusion. Because comfort zones are fueled by an ideal. You name it—it’s different for everyone.

I once spoke with a woman who got divorced after 25 years of marriage. I said, “That must be so hard—to lose a whole life with someone.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “What’s hard is knowing that I wanted to leave 15 years ago—and I didn’t. And that’s my fault.”
She called it her 15-year “life tax”—time she could never get back. She had stayed for the picture on the mantle, for the illusion of a family, believing that keeping the frame intact meant keeping the family whole.

But when it finally ended, she realized the terrible cost of holding on. “I stayed for my kid,” she said. “To be a family. But what I didn’t realize then—what I know now—is that I was my kid’s family all by myself, too. I didn’t need the picture to prove it. And in the end, staying for the ideal did more damage to my child than leaving ever would have.”

Her story is proof of the danger of zones—of the years they steal and the truths they distort. You can live your whole life preserving a picture that’s already cracked beneath the frame.

So, what’s the point?

The point is this: don’t settle for good enough.
Not when your entire life is at stake.

Maybe it isn’t a relationship. Maybe it isn’t fitness, food, or a new spiritual practice. What is it for you?
How can you choose yourself and let the kettle chips fall where they may?

(You didn’t think I was going to end this without a joke, did you?)
What can I say—I love kettle chips. And Lay’s Jalapeño chips are the best. But let’s get back to the point.

What is one bold way you can choose yourself—a way that will bring you closer to your life purpose, benefit the people you care about, and set you on a trajectory free of regret ten years from now?

Only you know the answer.

And before you go, here’s my Surgeon General’s warning for embarking on this change:
People in your life will try to scare you out of it. And they’ll do it by being purposefully cruel.
Take that as a positive sign.

I know that sounds crazy, but follow me for a second. Their resistance is proof that you are introducing a new YOU—one they no longer recognize. The version of you that chooses yourself will feel threatening to those who benefited from your self-abandonment.

But remember this:
Putting yourself first doesn’t mean putting them second.
Both truths can hold space in the brilliant, expansive mind God gave you.

So, go forth and conquer.
Choose yourself, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
The future version of you is waiting.

Until next time,
Maria 🌹