The pressure, the overwhelming force that comes from living in a society where more is always expected, where success is measured by achievement and productivity, and where self-worth is often tied to how much you can do or how fast you can get it done. It’s the American Dream, right? The idea that if you work hard enough, if you push yourself just a little bit further, then success—financial, professional, personal—will eventually be yours. But what happens when you don’t feel built for it? What happens when the relentless race for more leaves you drained and disconnected? For me, American culture’s demand for constant striving has always felt like a weight I wasn’t designed to carry.
The Grind: A Never-Ending Cycle
It’s hard to escape the pressure when it’s woven into the fabric of everyday life. From the moment we’re kids, we’re taught that we need to stand out, be better, do more. In school, we’re told that our grades will define our future. In the workplace, it’s all about moving up the ladder, becoming the best, and proving our worth. There’s a pervasive belief that if you’re not hustling, you’re falling behind. And yet, no matter how hard we hustle, there’s always something else on the horizon. Always another goal to reach, another milestone to hit. It’s this never-ending cycle of achievement and self-improvement that keeps you on the treadmill, convinced that you’ll only be truly happy once you reach the next “big thing.” But after years of trying to conform to this unrelenting drive for success, I’ve come to realize that it’s not a system I was ever built to thrive in. It’s exhausting. The constant comparison to others. The guilt of taking time for yourself when the world tells you there’s always someone out there working harder, doing more. It all wears you down, leaving you questioning whether the pursuit of success is worth the toll it takes on your mental and emotional health.
Individualism vs. Collectivism
One aspect of American culture that feels especially grating is the fierce individualism that runs through its veins. We’re told that success is about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, that we should be able to carve our own path and achieve whatever we set our minds to. And while that’s an empowering message for some, it’s a heavy burden for those who struggle with feelings of isolation or inadequacy. The idea that we must go it alone, that our worth is determined by our individual accomplishments, often leads to a sense of disconnection. In other cultures, there’s more emphasis on community, shared responsibility, and collective support. But here in America, the pressure to be “self-made” can leave you feeling like you’re drowning in a sea of expectations, while everyone around you seems to be effortlessly sailing ahead. For me, the focus on individual success has always felt like a double-edged sword. While it’s true that independence can bring strength, it’s also true that it can make you feel small and unseen, especially when you don’t conform to the ideal image of what success looks like. I’ve never felt like I fit the mold, and that feeling of being on the outside, constantly watching others succeed while I’m struggling just to keep my head above water, is a kind of loneliness that no amount of achievement can fix.
The Overlooked Price of Success
There’s an unspoken cost to the American Dream that most people don’t talk about—mental health. The constant push to keep achieving, to keep “making it,” often leaves us physically and emotionally depleted. When your worth is measured by your output, burnout isn’t just likely; it’s inevitable. But rather than acknowledging the toll that this culture takes on people, we’re told to push through, to just “keep going” and “stay positive.” I’ve watched people around me crumble under the weight of this pressure, even as they try to put on a brave face for the world. But deep down, they’re exhausted, overwhelmed, and trying to keep up with a society that demands more than most can give. The thing is, this “more” isn’t just about financial success or professional achievement. It’s also about how we’re expected to constantly improve ourselves—physically, mentally, emotionally. The culture tells us we need to be the best version of ourselves at all times, but rarely acknowledges that being “the best” is an elusive, ever-moving target. There’s always more to do, more to achieve, more ways to improve.
A Different Path
It’s on odd feeling to not want this path due to the toll it’s taken on me, but I’m also so grateful for it. Grateful I’ve gotten the opportunity to be and do anything with no real limitations, but the truth is, I’ve never felt comfortable in the fast-paced, success-driven world that American culture glorifies. I’ve been good at it, but that’s because I’ had to be. I’ve never been the kind of person who thrives on competition or the constant need for validation through external achievements. For years, I tried to force myself into that mold, believing that it was the only way to survive and be valued. But as I get older, I realize that I don’t have to play by those rules. I don’t have to measure my worth by how much I produce, how quickly I get things done, or how much I achieve. There’s a quieter, more meaningful path that doesn’t rely on constant striving or comparison to others. It’s a path that values rest, self-compassion, and understanding that sometimes just being is enough. We need to talk more about the hidden cost of this culture—the emotional and mental toll it takes on people, particularly those who feel like they don’t fit into the rigid standards set by society. It’s okay to step back, take your time, and not feel the need to prove yourself at every turn. It’s okay to acknowledge that American culture, with all its pressure and demands, isn’t built for everyone—and that’s okay.
Maybe I wasn’t built for the hustle, but I’m starting to realize that the rest, the pause, and the space to breathe are what I need to thrive. And that, I think, is just as valid a way to live.
