Stop Negotiating Down What You Want

A story about obligation, desire, and the quiet way we talk ourselves out of the future we want.

This morning I went for a walk because it was a balmy 25 degrees.

It only felt balmy because the sun was out and there was no wind—an actual reprieve from the last few weeks of icy driveways and air that hurts your face.

The sky was that bright, impossible winter blue. The snowbanks softening. Everything looked clean and bright.

And as I walked, I listened to a voice memo from a close friend.

Last week I had asked her a simple question: “What are you excited about this year?”

She gave me an update on life, and then she paused and said:

“I’m excited to do less.”

Not in a lazy way. Not in a checked-out way.

In a I’m tired of the roller coaster way.

It reminded me of the quiet restlessness so many women feel when life looks great on paper—but something in them still whispers, Is this it?

She told me she’s sick of planning. Sick of researching the perfect weekend getaway or a family vacation, spending hours on logistics and details, hoping it goes well—and then feeling crushed when it doesn’t.

The emotional effort. The letdown. The discouragement. The self-talk afterward.

Then she said something that made me stop walking and really tune in.

“What I really want,” she said, “is to be more present for the small things… and stop stacking all of my excitement on the biggest moments.”

She talked about staying in her teaching role until her youngest graduates from college. Three more years. She talked about the responsibilities she’s carrying right now—students, parents, conferences, the principal, her spouse, her daughters, and her mom, who lives with them.

And then she said a word, and then immediately she said that she hated it.

“Obligated.”

“I even hate the way that word tastes,” she said. “Obligated. All the shoulds.”

What she wanted—a future where she felt less obligated to everyone else—came through her voice with total clarity.

And I could hear something else, too.

Hope.

Not a hyped-up hope. A quiet one. The kind you can feel in your body when you say the truth out loud.

But then… she did what so many of us do.

Very quickly, she shifted.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we don’t get to have a life like that.”
“There’s always going to be things we have to do.”
“Maybe the best I can do is… a little less obligated.”

And there it was.

The negotiation.

It’s the ache of a wish you haven’t let yourself have—and the quick retreat into what feels responsible, realistic, and familiar.

That moment when you dare to name what you want—and then your mind starts bargaining it down before you’ve even tried.

As I walked under that bright sky, listening to her talk herself out of her own desire in real time, I thought:

Isn’t that fascinating?

And also: isn’t that heartbreaking?

The negotiation process (and why it feels so ‘reasonable’)

Because the desire wasn’t unreasonable. It wasn’t at all selfish. Or unrealistic.

It was simply… different than what her brain knows.

And that’s the part most of us don’t understand.

Your brain doesn’t negotiate with your dreams because you’re weak or undisciplined.

It negotiates because it’s doing its job.

It knows your current life. It can predict it.

It knows what it looks like to be on the hook to students, family, schedules, responsibilities, and expectations. It knows where the pressure points are.

A future where you’re less obligated? More present? Less braced? Less on-call?

That’s very uncertain.

And to your brain, uncertainty doesn’t feel like “possibility.” It feels like a big risk.

So it steps in quickly with what sounds like realism:

“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Be grateful.”
“Make do.”
“Maybe later.”

That voice can sound so reasonable that we don’t realize what’s happening.

We assume it’s the truth.

But it’s not truth.

It’s a protective pattern.

Obligation vs desire: what your brain is protecting

If you don’t recognize the negotiation when it starts, you will almost always settle for the version of your life your brain already knows.

Not because you’re incapable.

Because your brain is persuasive.

It will keep making your future look like your present—unless you learn to interrupt it.

A small practice for this week

The next time you hear yourself start negotiating down what you want, try this:

1) Name it: “This is the negotiation process.”
2) Normalize it: “Of course, my brain will try to negotiate certainty (this version of my life) for uncertainty (a future version of my life).
3) Tell the truth anyway: “ And I still want what I want.”
4) Get curious: “If I didn’t negotiate it down, what could my future look like?”

You don’t need a 10-year plan.

You just need to stop handing your desire back to your brain the moment it makes you nervous, so you can claim some time to brainstorm how to have what you want.

Because that’s the moment the future gets decided. Ideas form, and small action steps can be taken.

Not someday.

Today.

If you’re ready to stop negotiating with your own desire and build a future that feels like yours, private coaching can help.