Member-only story
I’ve always considered myself a simple girl.
Joy for me comes from the small things — a sunny day, a kind word, or the smell of fresh flowers.
I don’t crave grandeur or constant complexity.
My mind doesn’t wander into endless what-ifs or complicated plans.
I’ve always thought that happiness is as simple as noticing what’s already here.
But the world around me doesn’t seem to agree.
People tell me, “You need to grow up. Life isn’t that simple.”
They tell me I should think harder, plan better, achieve more.
Happiness, they say, is something you earn after ticking all the right boxes: a career, a house, a busy calendar full of accomplishments.
“Happiness doesn’t come easily,” they insist.
And yet, I wonder — why not?
I’ve seen it too many times.
People chasing happiness like it’s some distant finish line, so tangled in their complicated worlds that they forget to even look around.
They miss the sunsets, the shared laughs, the feel of grass under their feet.
They seem so sure that life needs to be complicated to matter.
