The Radical Act of Wanting: Beyond Just Surviving

By windoverwaterAnti-Diet, Coping

Sometimes getting out of bed, making it through a meeting, or responding to that text feels like the highest fantasy of productivity you can manage. After trauma or an eating disorder, survival becomes everything. Future‑planning, big goals, “where do you see yourself in five years” questions—they can feel like interrogation rather than aspiration. If you’ve wondered whether you’re doing it wrong because you don’t want sweeping life reinventions, this is for you.

Why longing for “something more” is not a failure

There’s no rule that healing means becoming a super‑version of yourself overnight. Trauma, EDs, burnout, and emotional freeze don’t come with user manuals, but they do tend to shrink what feels possible. Wanting more than merely surviving isn’t greedy. It’s natural. It’s human.

Survival is not a neutral baseline—it’s heavy. It takes energy, courage, oftentimes everything you have. From there, desiring more is a radical act of hope. But wanting more is different than forcing more with undue pressure or perfectionism.

The pressure cooker of planning ahead

September has that flavor: fresh starts, back‐to‐school vibes, “new goals,” “new you.” Even when nothing about you needs replacing. It hints: maybe you should have a roadmap, a five‑year plan, a bullet journal of ideal self. It’s cultural noise that whispers if you’re not aiming, you’re falling behind.

In ED and trauma recovery worlds, that pressure is especially loud. Because recovery often involves losing what you thought of as identity, control, self. So once things feel stable, even somewhat safer, the part of you that was silenced starts whispering: What’s next? The shadow voice answers: Better, faster, more, prettier, thinner, earlier.

You may fear wanting because wanting can feel dangerous. You may worry if you allow desire—of travel, of relationships, of creative work—that you’ll lose your safety net: the modest goals, the tiny wins, the meagre capacity.

Why We Believe Wanting Is Dangerous: Cultural Gaslighting 101

Let’s be honest: the idea that wanting more than survival is selfish or delusional didn’t drop from the sky. You didn’t just “come up with it.” This belief has roots in diet culture, productivity myths, and patriarchal morality—each one whispering the same message: You’re only worthy when you’re useful, perfect, small, or quiet.

Diet culture taught you to crave control over connection, appearance over appetite, discipline over delight. It framed desire as dangerous—especially if you’re a woman or someone socialized as one. Because hungry women are hard to manage. Especially when they’re hungry for more than salad and external approval.

Productivity culture isn’t far behind. It’s a close cousin of disordered eating, in fact. Both demand suppression: of needs, rest, emotion, and softness. You’re rewarded for disappearing into your performance—whether that’s the 80-hour work week, the “bounce back” body, or the emotionally neutral employee who never says no.

And patriarchy? It’s the original gatekeeper of desire. It says your value depends on what you give to others, not what you want for yourself. It punishes visible emotion (unless it’s nurturing others) and frames ambition as selfish—unless it’s in service of someone else’s comfort.

So, no, your ambivalence isn’t a personal flaw. It’s survival wisdom wrapped in centuries of gaslighting.

You were taught emotions make you weak. That rest is laziness. That ambition is ungrateful. That needing help is a failure. But what if all that messaging isn’t “truth”—just a tool to keep you on the treadmill? A way to keep you performing, striving, starving—literally or metaphorically—so you never stop to ask what you actually want?

Because when you do stop, even momentarily, you might realize: survival is not the endgame. It’s just the prequel. Life can be more than the chase for worth. But not if you’re still chasing the next version of “enough.”

Transition seasons, literal and emotional

Seasons shift. The air chills. Leaves turn. But emotional seasons are just as real. After surviving trauma or disordered eating, you enter seasons of limbo: when life is not crisis but also not full bloom.

In that space, wanting more becomes an emotional risk: risk of disappointment, risk of injuring what remains of your resilience if things don’t go “according to plan.” And here’s the paradox: it’s often in those transition seasons that seeds of what you really might want begin stirring, even while part of you still believes survival is all you deserve.

What “less than a five‑year plan” actually looks like

This is the juicy, messy, human middle ground. It’s not settling. It’s not stalling. It’s choosing clarity without collapse, direction without overdrive.

Here are what some of those middle‑ground desires might feel or look like:

  • Being able to name two things you want this week (not goals, things: to draw, to rest, to hug, to cook)
  • Building a sense of safety in your body or mind before envisioning big leaps
  • Letting yourself scribble wildly, change your mind, take detours without guilt
  • Not promising you’ll be “fixed” or big‑goal ready by a quota
  • Permitting rest and small joy just as much as productivity or progress

Healing ambivalence: that weird space where you want more but also fear wanting

Because ambivalence is its own thing: part of you wants more. Part of you wants the calm that comes with just being. Sometimes wanting feels like a betrayal of whichever survival strategy served you to stay alive.

That tension is not broken. It’s part of healing. It means your system is trying to balance protection and growth. Give both parts space.

Practical ways to allow desire without pressure

Here are some gentle practices—because hope needs muscle, not hype:

  • Micro‑wishes: Write down one tiny desire each day—especially non‑achievement ones (like “smell coffee carefully,” “watch clouds,” “listen to a song I used to love”).
  • Temporal boundaries: Allow yourself planning in small windows—e.g. “What do I want in three months?” instead of “Where will I be in five years?”
  • Values checkpoint: What matters to you, not what you think should matter. What values feel alive even when you are exhausted?
  • Therapeutic “what if” journaling: What if I allowed myself to want something without mapping it out? What if my peace mattered more than proof?
  • Compassionate witness: Share these thoughts with a therapist or friend who will hear the fear and the hope without advancing the plan without your permission

Data and truths: what the science (and lived experience) shows

  • 9 percent of the U.S. population—about 28.8 million people—will have an eating disorder in their lifetime. Fewer than 27 percent of people with eating disorders ever receive treatment. (anad.org)
  • Many people with eating disorders also have co‑occurring PTSD or trauma histories. For instance, in certain ED populations, about 25 percent of those with binge eating disorder have PTSD; people with bulimia have even higher co‑occurrence. (withinhealth.com)
  • Trauma‑informed and recovery‑oriented models of mental health care—those that prioritize autonomy, safety, and meaning—are increasingly recognized as associated with better quality of life, not just symptom reduction. (bmcpsychiatry.biomedcentral.com)

What’s possible when you stop forcing big plans

When you stop pressuring yourself to map out all you must be by 2030, life sometimes begins to open in unexpected, generous ways.

You might:

  • Notice moments of aliveness you skipped over because you were busy surviving
  • Rebuild trust in your body or self to have preferences, desires, even whims
  • Let creativity, curiosity, delight seep in without guilt
  • Accept that uncertainty is not failure

Resources + Statistics

Quotes & Affirmations

Quotes

  • “The way out is through.” — Robert Frost
  • “You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” — Maya Angelou
  • “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Affirmations (you can say them even if you don’t believe them yet)

  • My desires matter.
  • I deserve more than merely surviving.
  • I have permission to want without a blueprint.
  • Rest is not a weakness.
  • It is okay if I don’t know what “more” looks like yet.