Embracing Being Human – We’re Not Meant to Be Everything
Hello and welcome,
When we’re young, we’re often told: You can be anything you want to be.
It's meant to inspire hope. Possibility. Empowerment.
But many of us hear “anything” and quietly begin to believe it means “everything.”
If I can be anything, maybe I should be everything.
I should be smart. Creative. Funny. Kind. Ambitious.
I should be strong. Nurturing. Driven. Relaxed.
I should be well-rounded, multi-talented, and deeply successful in all areas of my life.
And I should do it all gracefully—without asking for help.
The list starts early.
Be a good student. A good athlete. A good friend.
And it keeps growing—
Be a good partner. A good parent. A good employee. A good cook. A good communicator.
A good human.
And not just good—but great.
Exceptional.
Otherwise, what’s the point?
It’s a quiet but powerful belief: that if we’re not thriving in every area, we’re falling behind.
That if something doesn’t come easily, it’s a personal flaw.
That struggle is a sign we’re not enough. Maybe we should just quit.
But what if struggle is just part of being human?
What if we’re not meant to be good at everything?
This belief—that we should be everything—can be deeply limiting. It can convince us to abandon things we might enjoy, simply because we’re not “naturally good” at them. It can rob us of curiosity, creativity, and joy. And it can leave us feeling like we’re always falling short—especially when we compare our lives to everyone else’s highlight reels.
Have you ever stopped yourself from joining a dance class or sport, learning a new language, or picking up a paintbrush—because you were afraid you wouldn’t be good enough quickly enough?
Have you ever pushed aside something you used to love, because the pressure to perform started outweighing the pleasure of doing it?
We’re told to be well-rounded.
But rarely are we taught how to meet ourselves with compassion when we’re still learning—or how to honour what brings us joy, even if it’s not our strong suit. We’re not taught how to discern which areas we want to grow in—because they feel aligned to us—not because we’re afraid of being seen as lacking.
Even in work or passion-based careers, the pressure to be everything is everywhere.
As a coach, I have niches. I don’t try to be everything to everyone.
As a cake designer, I had a distinct aesthetic and a flavour profile. Some people loved it—and some didn’t. That wasn’t a failure. That was alignment.
We’re not meant to appeal to everyone.
We’re not meant to master every skill.
We’re not meant to be the best at everything we try.
And the same is true in our relationships.
We’re not meant to be everything to everyone—or even everything to one person.
But if we grew up believing we had to earn love by being helpful, capable, or high-achieving…we might still feel responsible for how others feel. We might take it personally when someone doesn’t come to us for help. We might feel like we’re failing if we don’t have the perfect solution when they do.
And yes—young children do need reliable attachment figures.
But even then, no one person can be everything. We are meant to be supported by a village. We all need support, perspective, and connection beyond just one relationship.
Being someone’s everything isn’t love—it’s over-functioning.
And it’s not sustainable. It’s too much pressure—too much weight for any one heart, any one body to carry.
We are not here to be everything.
We are here to be human—to show up with intention, not perfection.
To bring our strengths forward, and to be honest about where we feel stretched. To pursue growth where it feels aligned, not out of fear, comparison, or proving. And to trust that we’re enough, even as we evolve.
So, if you’ve been feeling that pressure lately—to show up flawlessly, to do it all, or to be everything to someone else… here are a few gentle reminders:
Not everything you struggle with is a flaw: Some things simply aren’t your strength—and that’s okay.
You can grow in an area without needing to master it: Progress matters more than perfection.
Trying something new doesn’t require being good at it: Curiosity and joy are reason enough.
You are not here to meet everyone’s needs: You can love people deeply and still have boundaries.
You don’t have to be everything to be enough: Your worth isn’t earned by performance or productivity.
Not everyone will resonate with you—and that’s a good thing: Clarity creates space for alignment, not rejection.
Your humanity is not a problem to fix: You’re allowed to be whole without being everything.
You’re not here to be everything to everyone.
You’re here to be yourself.
To grow where it feels true, to rest where it feels kind, and to live with presence—not pressure.
The expectation to do it all, be it all, and fix it all—it’s not yours to carry.
It never was.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
