Finally Choosing Not to Struggle
A journey of how to build a life that works for you, not against you.
What if the story we've been told — that anything worth having requires grinding, proving yourself through suffering, that ease equals laziness — is just that…a story?
I feel this summer has been a whirlwind of metabolization, processing everything that was impacting the quiet unraveling of who I thought I was becoming. At the beginning of summer, I had no idea I'd be where I am as I write this. The life I’d been building all fell apart this year, and I spent months suspended in the liminal space between who I was and who I was becoming.
During those time, I found myself attending to the beautifully mundane things that needed my attention, letting my mind wander through everything that had unfolded. Somewhere between sorting receipts and scrubbing baseboards, the knowing crept in.
Knowing is something built on intuition — a quiet realization that settles in your bones like dust finding its place, as truth. I could finally see why certain opportunities had dissolved, why doors had slammed shut just as I was reaching for the handle.
You see, if they had been falsely forced open, I would have tied myself to something that wasn't mine to carry and locked myself in a life I was never meant to live.
That realization brought inner gratitude. I was thankful that nothing happened the way I had imagined it, because it led me to start seeing what was actually unfolding.
The Story We’ve Swallowed Whole
In those beauty of magical mundane, I found myself confronting the cultural narrative that almost all women live — where life has to be hard, where anything worth having requires struggle, grinding, proof through suffering. Max Weber called it the Protestant work ethic, but it runs deeper than religious doctrine.
As human beings, we've absorbed the mythology that equates our moral worth with how much we can endure, how hard we push, how much we sacrifice for what we want. Suffering becomes the currency we pay for permission to receive good things. This narrative operates like a spiritual tax system where every desire must be earned through struggle, every blessing justified through hardship.
Rest becomes laziness.
Ease becomes suspicion.
Flow becomes something we don't deserve.
But what if this entire framework is optional?
Recognition and Lights Turning On
Reflecting on the last decade of my life, I let the idea in that I was possibly choosing to struggle. Not consciously, but participating in a cultural story that demanded suffering as the price of admission to a meaningful existence.
Sitting on my floor, I chose to shift that belief. I said, “I am choosing not to struggle.” With that simple shift, relief arrived. The relief didn't announce itself or make grand proclamations — it slipped in through the back door while I was busy releasing what wasn't mine to carry.
I felt lighter, fully present. And I asked myself: “What do you want from this life?”
I didn't have a full answer to that question, and I realized I needed to allow for its exploration.
That was the first step: Being comfortable with “I don't know, but I'm willing to find out.”
What Arrives When You Stop Forcing
When I embraced the unknown, when I stopped demanding that life conform to my timeline and my methods, everyday miracles started stacking up.
My very best friend bought a ranch and texted me, asking me to bring Mystic. Knowing me as well as I know myself, she said, "I'll take care of him, Amiga. You need space to breathe."
I accepted her offer and packed him up, drove him 225 miles south — driving a horse trailer through downtown Seattle is no small feat — arrived at the ranch 3.5 hours later, unloaded him, and let him lose.
Mystic was in heaven and I was relieved. After five years, he now lives in way I believe horses should live. He has tons of space, continual movement, and the ability to be in a herd. He is not confined to small spaces, isolated from other animals, and his well-being isn’t tied to mentally unstable barn owners.
The cognitive load that knowing he was safe, with someone I trusted most created a ripple effect. Within two weeks, she asked me something else, namely to work with another clinician and her to create an animal and nature-based psychotherapy practice. I said, “Yes!” So I took on the role of Director Business Operations.
That same month, my favorite Cowgirl client posed a question that made an entire new business model for my consulting crystallize — it was simple, fulfilling, something I could do every day without exhaustion, from anywhere in the world.
And from it, I did a systematic review of all the current client work I had, spoke honestly with the companies I loved, and decided to let the rest clients I no longer aligned with go with love and honor. And now, at the end of the year, I can honestly say my data work focuses solely on “Cs”: Cowboys, cowgirls, cattle, and cannabis. I no longer have to peddle products that harm our planet or explore the people that create them.
These mini miracles weren't coincidences, they were what became available when I stop gripping so tightly to how I thought things should unfold. And I learned that when you trust that what's meant for you will find you, it will. And it will come without you having to prove your worthiness through suffering. This felt like a breakthrough.
The Territory We're Entering
The dissolution of the struggle mythology doesn't mean life becomes effortless — it means you stop participating in the cultural story that says your worth depends on how much you can endure. And what come next is:
You stop performing suffering as proof of your seriousness, your commitment, your deservingness.
You learn to distinguish between the resistance that signals you're forcing something that doesn't belong and the resistance that comes with meaningful work.
You discover that letting go doesn't mean giving up—it means releasing your grip on outcomes so something truer can emerge.