I think one of the most uncomfortable parts of living intentionally is realising that your life might stop making sense to other people and that’s not because you’re doing anything wrong and it’s not because they are doing anything wrong either, but because difference, when it is lived honestly, has a way of unsettling the stories people carry about what a good life is supposed to look like. There is an unspoken expectation in modern life that our choices should be broadly recognisable. Ideally, they should also be explainable. If we choose something different around work, family, home, ambition, money, education or pace, we are often expected to justify it in a way that reassures other people we haven’t made a terrible mistake, it’s as though our lives need to pass some kind of public approval test before we are allowed to feel settled inside them. But life doesn’t need to be universally appealing to be deeply right for you, in fact, it only needs to be coherent to the person living it snd this is something I have had to learn slowly, and sometimes uncomfortably, over the years. I live a life that many people wouldn’t choose; I home educate my children, I live in a small, 650sq ft home by choice, I centre my days around home, rhythm, presence and ordinary life rather than constant expansion, I identify as a homemaker and I have opted out, where I can, from certain forms of pace, productivity and visibility. Not as a rejection of modern life entirely and certainly not because I think everyone should live like me, but because this is how I stay well inside the life I am actually living. And those choices are not meant to be persuasive (a very common assumption) they are simply mine and I speak to those who either associate with this way of living too, or desire to live in a similar way. I think that is where so much unnecessary tension begins. We assume that when someone makes a different choice, they must be making a statement about ours. * If someone home educates, it can be read as a criticism of school. * If someone stays in a small home, it can be read as a rejection of ambition. * If someone chooses a slower pace, it can be read as laziness. * If someone centres home, family or care, it can be read as regressive, especially for women, whose choices are so often treated as public property and moral declarations rather than personal decisions. But someone else’s inability to imagine themselves in your life is not a verdict on yours; it just means they wouldn’t choose it, it is that simple. And it’s also fine, they don’t have to. I wouldn’t choose lots of other people’s lives either. I can scroll through Instagram and see all sorts of lifestyles that make me think, “Absolutely not for me, thank you kindly”, but I don’t need to announce that in the comments section like a woman holding a clipboard at the gates of acceptable living, because it isn’t my life. And this is the bit we seem to forget… not everything needs our approval or agreement and not everything needs to be filtered through the lens of whether we personally would choose it. Sometimes another person’s life can simply exist. When I first started home educating, I noticed this very quickly. I had made the decision before my first child was even born, so it wasn’t sudden or impulsive. It was something we had thought about deeply. It was a long standing choice rooted in our values, our family rhythm and what we wanted for our children and yet even saying that can make people uncomfortable. Because if I say home education is the best choice for my children, some people hear, “School is the wrong choice for yours” and that’s not an assumption, I have literally had this accusation levied at me more than once. But that is of course not what I am saying… I don’t think every child should be home educated and I don’t think every parent has the capacity, desire or circumstances to home educate. I don’t think school is wrong for every child but I do think home education is right for mine and that distinction matters. Sometimes your choices brush up against something unfinished in someone else and it’s rarely because you have done anything wrong, but because your life has touched a question they haven’t resolved for themselves and when that happens, it can be much easier for people to frame your choices as naive, irresponsible, privileged, regressive, smug or ridiculous than to sit quietly with whatever your choices have stirred in them. But their discomfort is not automatically your responsibility. This has been one of the most grounding things for me to realise. Discomfort is not the same as danger. Just because someone feels unsettled by your choices doesn’t mean those choices need correcting, sometimes discomfort is simply the sound of someone else’s assumptions being challenged and that work belongs to them, not to you. Let’s slow down and journey together through the seasons with simplicity and intention. Subscribe to receive simple musings directly in your inbox. That doesn’t mean we should be smug or careless or unwilling to reflect, of course not. I think we should all keep asking ourselves honest questions about the lives we are building but there is a difference between reflection and constantly defending yourself to people who are determined not to understand you. I truly believe there is a difference between sharing your life and submitting it for approval. You are allowed to let your life be specific, and you are allowed to choose a pace that supports your nervous system, even if other people thrive on momentum and stimulation. You are allowed to choose a small home, a quieter rhythm, a home centred life, a different relationship with work, money, education, ambition or success. You are allowed to choose things that do not translate neatly into a soundbite. You are allowed to choose a life that works for you and it might be a life that may not look impressive from the outside, but feels honest on the inside. You don’t need to inflate it to make it look more aspirational and you certainly don’t need to shrink it to make it more palatable. Although, believe me, I know the temptation. I know how quickly we can start explaining ourselves before anyone has even asked. I know the little pre-emptive disclaimers. The “I know I’m lucky but…” and “Obviously this wouldn’t work for everyone…” and “I’m not saying everyone should…” Sometimes those caveats are useful because they are compassionate and add necessary context but sometimes they are armour too, they are us bracing for impact because we have learned that any deviation from the expected path invites scrutiny. And I think it’s time we put the armour down. Because, for me, these choices are not about retreating from life. They are about staying regulated, staying present and staying connected to my children, my home, my work, my values and my own limits. Because my capacity is not infinite and neither is yours. Let’s slow down and journey together through the seasons with simplicity and intention. Subscribe to receive simple musings directly in your inbox. A life does not have to be aspirational to be meaningful. In fact, some of the most nourishing lives I know are deeply unremarkable from the outside. They are ordinary, repetitive, quiet and deliberately unoptimised and they work not because they are perfect, but because they are honest. So yes, you are allowed to choose a life other people wouldn’t choose, you are allowed to stop explaining every part of it, you are allowed to let other people misunderstand you and you are allowed to trust that a life can be right for you even when it makes no sense to someone else. And if someone is deeply triggered by the way you choose to live, soften, slow down, educate your children, care for your home, protect your energy or build your days? That may not be about you at all, that might be their work and you do not have to pick it up. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit theslowlivingcollective.substack.com/subscribe
