The Exhaustion of Becoming Our “Best" Selves

I don’t know about you, but I am tired.

Not necessarily physically (although being 52, perimenopausal, and a mother of an adolescent boy does change that at times), but definitely emotionally and mentally. And the world being what it is right now, it’s no wonder so many of us feel tired of just trying to make it from one day to the next. And we’re the lucky ones.

It’s not just life’s demands that wear us down—it’s the constant pressure to improve and perform to be our “best” selves. Everywhere we turn, we’re told what to do, what to change, how to evolve, what to wear, what we should be striving for, and the five things we should start doing right now to make it all amazing. It’s exhausting.

We are living in an optimisation culture where everything we do comes down to needing to be the best version of ourselves. But there is another reality shaping where the self-improvement exhaustion is building, leaving us feeling like no matter what we do, it’s never enough.

Dr. Vivek Murthy recently shared, “Most of us have been sold a version of the good life that doesn't deliver. Achieve. Acquire. Optimise. And we've been trying hard to do exactly that. We've checked the boxes we were told to check. But too often, we went home feeling empty. Like something was still missing. Something that couldn't be filled with our phones or our feeds.” This exhaustion, this feeling of emptiness, isn’t down to just you and me. It’s a cultural epidemic.

Now don’t get me wrong…as some of you know, I’m in the business of personal development, so I say this with the utmost respect, but friends, we don’t need more. What we do need is self trust.

Right now, we are outsourcing our thoughts and choices, which are affecting our behaviours and emotions. We are allowing the algorithm to decide how we should look, how we should feel, how we should work, relate, and live. We are giving away what makes us us, and in that process, we are losing our voice and the trust we have in knowing what actually is best for us. And we know it. That frustration we feel? That irritation? That longing? That’s our body telling us something is off—not with us, but with what we are choosing to define as who we are.

Entire industries are built on the premise that there is something within us that needs to be fixed or improved. But what if we aren’t the problem? What if the problem is that we have, from the time we are old enough to understand language (both body and verbal), learned that who we are is not good enough, and that language has seeped into a culture of always needing to be a “better” version of ourselves?

I believe “better” is subjective. I believe that self-trust is more universal. Because when we trust ourselves, when we are connected to what we want, who we are, and how we actually want to live our lives, any form of evolution—physical, emotional, or mental—becomes more sustainable and real. We aren’t then becoming a version of ourselves designed by someone else’s logic, rationale, fears and insecurities, or need to sell a product. Instead, we are peeling away the layers to uncover who we truly are beneath it all. And it is from that place that we decide what works for us—a look, a lesson, a lifestyle.

Because no matter how many makeovers we do, clothes Instagram tells us to buy, self-help programmes we invest in, five steps to a better or more successful life we follow, or advice shared on podcasts and interviews, none of it will stick until we get to the heart of what it is we are trying to either uncover or hide. Let me just add that the definition of what makes someone or something beautiful changes every five minutes.

Maybe that’s the point of all this exhaustion—not that we need to “fix” ourselves, but that we need to slow down enough to see what we’ve been ignoring, and what we’ve been holding ourselves back from simply noticing or not trusting.

That’s not to say that our “best selves” and self-trust are mutually exclusive. Nor is it to say that everything we read and see online simply adds to the noise.

I am a big believer in being curious, in learning, in expanding what I know. But there is a difference between learning that deepens self-trust and learning that distances us from it. The balance matters.

One of my dearest friends wakes up at 5am three times a week to go to the gym and has committed to a training programme that sees her invest in herself. Is this her becoming her best self? Yes. But it comes from a place of self-trust, not a need to appeal to a certain aesthetic.

She was clear about how she was feeling before she embarked on this journey, and honest about how working out made her feel—physically and mentally—and about her desire to be healthy and strong into her middle and older age.

The result isn’t just physical. It’s that she feels more confident in who she is, more certain of herself, more anchored in a deeper part of her that already knows.

My reformer Pilates classes are my reminder that self-trust is everything. I show up not to chase a “bikini body” or meet anyone else’s standard, but because of how it makes me feel—strong, aligned, capable in my own body. It’s in those classes that I truly listen to my body, tuning in to the muscles I’m working and the effort I’m putting in. This practice is an investment in myself, grounded in honesty about where I am today, how I want to feel at 52, and how I want to feel at 82.

It’s not an obligation. It’s not a look to keep up with. It’s showing up for myself in a way that feels right—and that’s what makes it sustainable and keeps me coming back week after week. The joy and achievement I feel in those moments reverberate through my day, reminding me how simple life is when we quiet the noise and listen to our own bodies.

We’ve been trained to search everywhere but inside ourselves—when the truth is, the answers aren’t out there; they’re already within us. What we’re looking for in trends, programmes, or other people’s definitions of “best” is already present when we pause, listen, and trust ourselves. Noticing what feels right, what resonates, and what sustains us—and then acting from that place—is what shapes a life that actually works for us.

So I wonder: what would it feel like to give yourself permission to stop chasing “better” for a while, and start paying attention to what’s real for you? What would it look like to live by your own logic rather than someone else’s expectations or definitions? What are you carrying that isn’t yours to carry? How would it feel to trust yourself to know what is best for you? And what are you avoiding by staying busy trying to be “better”?

When we uncover that for ourselves, well, that is when we start to feel strong, empowered, and actually happy with what we see in the mirror and have the courage to design a life that feels good to us. It begins my asking, 'what do I actually want?' And to know that you're enough just as you are.

Monita xo