What If Growth Is About Removing, Not Adding More to Your Life?

For years, any time I felt sadness, insecurity, loneliness, or any of those “unwelcome” feelings, I jumped into action.

I’d look for something new to take on: a class, a language, a project, a degree. Once, in the span of a single week, I signed up for language classes, researched getting certified in something I didn’t actually want to do, and convinced myself I needed to start training for a 10K.

Because if I was doing something productive, I wouldn’t have to sit with what I was feeling. That was the pattern: uncomfortable emotion → frantic pursuit of something “more.”

I became a master at staying busy. If I was chasing something, I didn’t have to face the ache underneath. But the relief was always temporary, and the crash afterward was always the same.

Because deep down, I wasn’t looking for a new skill. I was looking for a way to feel like I was enough.

I once heard someone say, “We can never get enough of what we don’t need.” I felt that in my bones.

Looking back, I can see why. I spent a lot of my life trying to earn my place, not because anyone said I wasn’t enough, but because it never really felt safe to just be. There was a kind of emotional instability in my world growing up that made me hyperaware of how others were feeling and what they needed from me.

I got really good at shape-shifting, staying useful, and keeping the peace, which eventually morphed into perfectionism, people-pleasing, and a chronic drive to prove myself. I didn’t know how to feel safe without performing. So, of course I kept chasing “more.” It was never about achievement. It was about survival.

But no matter how much I accomplished, I never felt satisfied. Or safe. Or enough.

It reminded me of something a nutritionist once told me: when your body isn’t properly absorbing nutrients, eating more food won’t fix the problem; it might even make things worse. You have to heal what’s interfering with absorption. The same is true emotionally.

When we don’t feel grounded or whole, adding more—more goals, more healing, more striving—doesn’t solve the problem. We have to look at what’s blocking us from receiving what we already have. We have to heal the system first.

We live in a culture that convinces us that growth is about accumulation.

More insight. More advice. More goals. More tools. If you’re stuck, clearly you haven’t found the right “more” yet.

So we reach for books, podcasts, frameworks, plans, certifications—anything to build ourselves into someone new.

But here’s what I’ve learned from years of doing my own work: Real growth doesn’t come from becoming someone new. It comes from letting go of what no longer serves you so that you can make room for the version of you that’s trying to emerge.

There’s a quote attributed to Michelangelo that says, “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

He believed his sculptures were already complete inside the stone; his job was simply to remove what wasn’t part of them.

When I heard that, I realized: That’s exactly how real transformation works. Not more, not better, not shinier. Just… less in the way.

But when people feel stuck, they react by piling on layer after layer of effort, advice, and activity until the thing they are actually looking for (peace, clarity, ease, joy) gets buried even deeper.

When we feel inadequate or incomplete, our instinct is to reach outward for something to fill the space. But the real work is to turn inward and get curious about what that space is trying to show us.

That might sound airy-fairy, but the truth is, identifying and transforming the parts of us that are carrying old stories isn’t passive. It’s not just a mindset shift or a nice thought on a coffee mug. It’s work.

It’s learning how to sit with discomfort without immediately escaping into productivity.

It’s noticing the parts of us that over-function, over-apologize, and over-control and asking where they learned to do that. It’s exploring the beliefs we’ve carried for years, like “I have to earn my worth” or “If I stop striving, I’ll disappear”—and getting curious about who they actually belong to and what they really need from us.

This isn’t about erasing who you’ve been. It’s about honoring the roles you played to survive and choosing not to let them lead anymore.

You don’t have to overhaul your personality or give up on ambition. This work is about clearing away what’s outdated and misaligned. The thoughts, roles, and behaviors that might have kept you safe once—but are now keeping you stuck.

Here’s what that might look like:

• Letting go of the belief that love must be earned.
• Dismantling the habit of saying “yes” to avoid disappointing others.
• Releasing the fear that setting boundaries will make you unlovable.
• Recognizing that staying small isn’t humility, it’s protection.

I’ve used every one of these tools myself. I began to notice when I was performing instead of connecting, fixing instead of feeling. I caught myself hustling for approval and validation and started asking: What am I afraid will happen if I stop? I practiced pausing. I gave myself permission to rest, to say no, to take up space. And slowly, I began to trust that I didn’t have to be more to be enough.

This kind of letting go isn’t instant. It requires awareness, compassion, and support. It requires choosing to stop running and start listening… to yourself.

Many of us are afraid to let go because we believe we’ll be left with less—less identity, less stability, less value. But in my experience, the opposite is true.

When we stop performing and start unlearning, we uncover a version of ourselves that feels more whole than anything we could have constructed.

Under the perfectionism? There’s peace.

Under the overthinking? There’s clarity.

Under the fear of being too much? There’s boldness.

We are not lacking. We are hidden.

If this resonates with you—if you’re tired of doing more and still feeling stuck, here are a few places to begin:

Pause the performance. Notice when you’re trying to “fix” something about yourself. Ask what you’re feeling underneath the fixing.

• Identify the beliefs you inherited. Were you taught you had to earn love? Be useful to be safe? Stay small to be accepted?
• Get curious about your patterns. What roles do you play at work, in relationships, in your head? Where did they start?
• Create space. That might mean working with a coach or therapist or simply setting time aside to be with yourself, without distraction.
• Be gentle. You’re not broken. You’re patterned. And patterns can be unlearned.

Here’s what I want you to know: what’s on the other side of the removal process isn’t emptiness. It’s clarity. Peace. Energy. Trust.

That person you’re trying so hard to build? That person is already there, just waiting for you to set them free.