Let’s ask something real:
Is your “purpose” actually serving others?
Or is it just helping you feel like you matter?
Before you get defensive—breathe.
This isn’t a callout.
It’s a mirror.
Because we live in a world that praises productivity over presence.
That romanticizes “helping people” as long as it makes us look useful, needed, good.
And somewhere along the way, we started confusing validation with vocation.
We say we’re serving.
We say we’re called.
We say it’s our “purpose.”
But sometimes—if we’re honest—what we’re really doing
is chasing the feeling of being enough.
Of being loved.
Of being seen.
And that doesn’t make you bad.
It makes you human.
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The Ancient Question of Purpose
Philosophers have asked this question for centuries:
What makes life meaningful?
Is meaning something we find, or something we create?
Is it external—rooted in the good we do for others—or internal, a feeling we cultivate inside ourselves?
Existential thinkers like Jean-Paul Sartre argued that life is absurd —meaning has no inherent meaning.
We aren’t born with a set purpose handed to us like a script.
We have to make it.
But making purpose can be terrifying because it means freedom — and freedom means responsibility.
If your purpose is mostly about how others see you,
what happens when their attention fades?
What happens when the applause dies down?
Does your sense of self disappear?
Or do you have an internal anchor beyond the performance?
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The Trap of Performance
In today’s culture, especially in social media and influencer-driven spaces, performance is king.
It’s tempting to perform our purpose like a role in a play—because the role comes with recognition, respect, and even a kind of survival.
But the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard talked about the “despair of the self”—the struggle between who we really are and who we pretend to be.
When purpose becomes performance, we risk losing the authentic self beneath the act.
What if true purpose is not about being seen but about being?
Not about proving your value but feeling your value, regardless of audience or outcome.
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Purpose as Process, Not Product
Purpose isn’t a trophy to win.
It’s a process of becoming.
It’s messy and uneven and sometimes confusing.
It’s waking up every day and choosing—again and again—to show up for yourself and others in a way that feels honest.
Purpose can be the quiet commitment to growth.
It can be the small acts of kindness that don’t get noticed.
It can be the moments when you step back and say:
I am enough, right here, right now.
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So where does that leave us?
Maybe the question isn’t “what’s my purpose?”
Maybe the question is:
How do I live purpose without performing it?
How do I stay connected to my own worth, independent of how much I do for others?
The answers aren’t easy.
They’re personal.
They change.
But maybe that’s the beauty of it.
Purpose isn’t a destination.
It’s the art of becoming—
in all your flawed, beautiful humanity.
