We’ve all kept up appearances long after the spark was gone.
Sometimes it’s nostalgia, sometimes it’s guilt, and sometimes it’s the quiet fear that letting go means admitting we’ve changed.
If you’re feeling a tug to simplify, see if any of these eight habits still fit who you are today—or if they’re ready for retirement.
And if you feel a pinch of resistance while reading, that’s usually where the growth wants to begin.
1. Nights out that leave you drained
There was a season when closing the bar felt like the best way to celebrate life.
These days, I catch myself tallying the lost sleep before the second round arrives.
If your body needs a full weekend to recover from one evening, your nervous system is sending a postcard that the party has moved on.
I’ve started trading last-call cocktails for sunrise hikes, and the afterglow lasts far longer than any neon-lit dance floor.
When friends push the “just one more” narrative, I’ll offer to meet them for brunch the next day instead—no shame, no explanation, just a new rhythm that respects my energy.
2. Drama-bond friendships
Ever notice how certain relationships survive only on crisis chatter?
In my twenties, I mistook that intensity for intimacy.
Now I crave friends who text “Thinking of you” instead of the latest blow-up.
Peace is the delight of a stable relationship; chaos is not a necessary ingredient.
When the conversation feels like a reality-TV recap, I gently pivot to what’s nourishing us—books, goals, small victories.
If the cycle keeps looping, I step back and let the stillness speak; healthy bonds don’t need constant fires to stay warm.
3. Fast-fashion “treats”
Retail therapy loses its sparkle when every closet purge reveals unworn bargains.
Sustainability experts estimate a garbage truck of textiles is landfilled or burned every second worldwide.
I’ve swapped trend hauls for a tiny wish list and a 30-day wait rule—and the joy of a well-loved piece lasts far longer.
My wallet noticed, too: one quality jacket cost what three throwaway tops did—and I wear it weekly.
Bonus perk? Less decision fatigue in the morning because every hanger holds something that feels like me.
4. Hardcore workouts that hurt more than help
High-intensity interval training once felt heroic; now my knees file formal complaints.
“If you’re older or have heart disease, check with your doctor before trying HIIT,” cautions Harvard Health.
Moving with kindness—think yoga flows or a brisk walk—keeps me consistent and injury-free.
I’ve learned that exercise should leave you energized, not limping to the couch with an ice pack.
Strength happens in recovery, and recovery can’t occur if you keep sprinting past your own red flags.
5. Constant doom-scrolling and performative posting
Pew Research found that 69% of Facebook news consumers feel worn out at least sometimes by what they see.
When I notice my thumb flicking on autopilot, I flip the phone face-down and take ten deep breaths.
The world doesn’t end—my anxiety just quiets.
I’ve also set “device-free islands” in my day: breakfast, workouts, and the hour before bed belong strictly to real life.
Funny how sunsets look brighter when you’re not busy framing them for strangers.
6. Saying “yes” to everything
I used to treat an empty calendar like a personal failure.
Then burnout handed me a reality check.
Time is a choice.
I schedule white space first and watch how “urgent” invitations magically sort themselves out.
My new script is, “Let me check my bandwidth and circle back.” Most people respect the pause—and those who don’t reveal themselves as energy leaks I’m happy to seal.
7. Sunk-cost commitments
Remember that book club, side hustle, or half-finished course you’re still clinging to because you’ve “come this far”?
Organizational psychologist Adam Grant calls this the sunk-cost fallacy—staying invested to avoid feeling foolish.
Freedom often starts with admitting you’ve extracted the lesson and it’s okay to step away.
I once funneled months into an online certification I no longer wanted; the day I hit “withdraw” felt like exhaling after holding my breath for miles.
Your past effort is not a life sentence—and your future self will thank you for the redirect.
8. Stuff that no longer sparks joy
Marie Kondo asks, “The question of what you want to own is actually the question of how you want to live your life.”
Last month I let go of a box of college notebooks.
My shelves look lighter, and so does my mind.
I snapped photos of sentimental pages, donated the rest, and created space for things that serve today’s version of me—like a meditation cushion I actually use.
Clutter is just delayed decisions; every donation drop-off feels like pressing “play” on the present moment.
Final thoughts
Growth rarely arrives with fanfare; it shows up as a quiet mismatch between yesterday’s routines and today’s values.
Notice where the friction lives, thank those habits for serving you once, and give yourself permission to evolve.
If one small shift feels doable, start there—momentum loves modest beginnings.
After all, the most authentic life is the one that fits you now, not the version you keep pretending still does.
Just launched: Laughing in the Face of Chaos by Rudá Iandê
Exhausted from trying to hold it all together?
You show up. You smile. You say the right things. But under the surface, something’s tightening. Maybe you don’t want to “stay positive” anymore. Maybe you’re done pretending everything’s fine.
This book is your permission slip to stop performing. To understand chaos at its root and all of your emotional layers.
In Laughing in the Face of Chaos, Brazilian shaman Rudá Iandê brings over 30 years of deep, one-on-one work helping people untangle from the roles they’ve been stuck in—so they can return to something real. He exposes the quiet pressure to be good, be successful, be spiritual—and shows how freedom often lives on the other side of that pressure.
This isn’t a book about becoming your best self. It’s about becoming your real self.
