The power of “should”

“Should”, should come with a warning.

“I feel like I should…”

“I know it’s bad to say no, but I’ll make up an excuse why I can’t, because I should really…”

For a long time, my life was built around shoulds. I felt obligated to family, friends, partners, colleagues — even strangers. In a world so focused on what we should do, we can easily lose sight of what we want to do.

At one point, I remember thinking, “So in order prioritise my own needs, do I have to be a psychopath?” Crude, I know. But it shows how extreme — even unsafe — it felt to consider my wants as equally valid in any situation.

This is something I see often in therapy, and something I’ve worked through myself.

In my own sessions, my brilliant therapist helped me pay attention to the word should. It implies a rule — but whose rule? Where did it come from? And what really happens if we break it?

That was a lightbulb moment for me.

I’d never questioned how much of my life was governed by obligation — or why. It was just the water I swam in.

For me, should was tied to a deep fear: If I don’t go along with what others expect — if I say no, disagree, or choose differently — they’ll think I’m a bad person. I’ll lose the relationship. Worse, maybe they’ll tell others I’m a bad person too.

That fear led to a constant need to please and accommodate. I put myself at the bottom of every priority list, because gaining approval felt like survival. And in doing so, I gave away my power.

Therapy helped me begin to see my time, energy, and needs as equally important — not more important than others’, but not less either. That was a radical shift.

For many of us, approval-seeking becomes so ingrained that we forget we have agency. When our worth depends on how we’re perceived, we become chameleons — adapting to everyone else’s expectations. Over time, we lose sight of who we actually are, beyond all the roles we’ve learned to play: parent, partner, friend, colleague, sibling… human being.

The weight of who we think we should be can eventually suffocate who we are.

There’s a biological reason for this. In early human history, being accepted by the group was essential for survival. That wiring still exists — and it’s especially strong in childhood. We learn, instinctively, how to behave in ways that keep us safe and connected.

From a young age, we absorb messages like:

• “Stop crying or I’ll…”

• “You can have that if you behave.”

• “No one likes a crybaby.”

• “You can’t dress like that.”

• “You’re too clingy.”

• “You’re too much.”

We start to shape ourselves into what’s acceptable — and push away parts that feel risky or unwanted. Should becomes a framework for survival. But as adults, the more distance there is between who we are and who we think we should be, the more tension and unhappiness we experience.

Once I understood this, the next question became: How do I live differently?

I thought, “Okay, so I’m important. What I want matters. I just say and do what I want now — that’s the trick.”

But of course, it’s not that simple.

It felt like I had to choose between two extremes: live for others or live only for myself. But life is more nuanced than that. There are times when we act out of responsibility, not preference — and that’s okay.

A parent may not want to get up for the fifth time in the night with their crying baby. But they have to. That’s not just a “should” — it’s a reality.

So, it’s not about rejecting all obligations. It’s about getting curious.

The key is to examine our “shoulds” more closely. Not all of them are bad or unnecessary. But many are worth questioning. Ask yourself:

• Why do I feel so obligated?

• Is this still true — or just something that used to be true?

• Who says I have to do this?

• What would happen if I didn’t?

Even when the answer is “I still need to do this,” the act of reflection allows us to make more conscious, empowered choices — not just automatic ones.

We don’t need to abandon all our “shoulds.” But we do need to include ourselves in the equation. You matter. Your needs matter. Your voice matters.

When we begin to honour that, we move from obligation to choice. And in doing so, we start to reclaim our sense of self — piece by piece.