So... I Don’t Really Have Goals?
I don’t have goals.
Is that bad? It doesn’t feel bad. And honestly, what even is “bad” or “good”? Right or wrong? Probably a conversation for another day.
This came up recently when I found myself (again) missing our last apartment, that magical little spot less than a mile from the beach, with the white wraparound porch, metal roof, mango trees, and royal poincianas everywhere. It sat in the heart of the historic district of the town I grew up in, literally on the same property I spent so much of my childhood.
And then... we had to move.
Why? Even though my dad owned the building and we were getting an insane deal on rent, apparently when you become an adult, you're supposed to buy a house. It's 'responsible.' So we did the responsible thing and moved an hour away to a city with potential, but not much charm.
The house is great! We have space, a backyard, and it’s a blessing, truly. But it’s not there. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t want to buy a house. The community I loved? Gone. My friends? Still an hour away. My weekends? Quiet. Too quiet.
All of that had me spiraling a little:
Did I ever want to buy a house?
Was that a goal of mine?
Nope. Never was. I would’ve happily rented that beachside apartment forever. But I guess “owning land” is something you’re supposed to do for... future generations or something?
And that made me wonder: what are my goals?
Honestly? I don’t have any big ones. Not in the “5-10 year plan” kind of way. That realization pulled up a memory from sixth grade, talking with a classmate named Megan (hi Megan, if you’re reading this!). She asked, “Okay but what are you going to do after UF?”
And I was stumped. Like... after?
Because at the time, my only goal (my obsession) was to attend the University of Florida. I had tunnel vision for that school. My dad went there, we visited often, and from age 12, I was plotting my way in: grades, test scores, AP classes, clubs, sorority stalking (pre-Instagram!). That dream guided everything I did. EVERYTHING.
And then... I got in. And I thrived. It was everything I hoped for. The town, the people, the campus, it all lived up to the dream. But once I graduated?
No more goal.
Since then, I’ve kind of just... bopped around.
I became a teacher (out of convenience)
I became a mom (to raise a dope human who will contribute to the world)
I built a career online and now I work from home (which, I love)
Sure, I have little goals:
Hit a certain paycheck
Redecorate the house
Maybe have another baby (don’t ask me when or I’m blocking you)
Grow my hair to my butt again
But a life goal? Something as all-consuming as that college dream? Nah. Haven’t had one since.
And honestly? I love that for me.
I feel like once I reached that big dream, I got to exhale. I did the thing. And now? I get to chill a little. Flow a little. Is this what people feel in retirement??? lmk
Jobs fall into my lap. Opportunities show up. Change happens. I roll with it (okay, sometimes reluctantly, I still hate change). But I trust that what’s meant for me won’t miss me.
I still get stuff done. I still like structure. I’m Type A in plenty of ways. But I no longer feel the pressure to chase some giant, looming life milestone. I know how I want to feel. I know the vibe I want for my life. The rest? Not my business.
So to answer the questions I asked myself (the void) earlier: no, not having traditional “goals” isn’t a bad thing.
Turns out, it’s a really freeing, joyful thing.
