Why I Stopped Apologizing for Wanting More Out of Life

I used to think ambition was a dirty word. Wanting “more” made me feel selfish—ungrateful even. I had a decent job, a good relationship, a solid routine. From the outside, everything looked fine. And yet, there was this quiet, persistent feeling in my gut that I was meant for more. Not necessarily more money or more stuff—just more meaning. More impact. More of myself in my own life.

But every time that feeling bubbled up, I’d shove it down. I’d remind myself to be grateful. To not rock the boat. To be careful not to look like I was complaining when so many people had it worse.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was shrinking myself—making sure I didn’t take up too much space or ask for too much.

Until one day, I was talking to a friend who had just made a big leap—left her job, started her own thing, and was positively glowing with purpose. I told her how amazing it was, how proud I was of her. Then, almost without thinking, I added, “I could never do that, though.”

She looked at me and said, “Why not?”

I didn’t have an answer. And that was the beginning of everything shifting.

I started paying attention to the moments when I said “sorry” for no reason—when I apologized for speaking up, for dreaming bigger, for having an opinion or a preference. It was constant. I was treating my own desires like they were inconveniences. Like they were getting in the way of how things were “supposed” to go.

So I made a decision: I would stop apologizing for wanting more.

At first, it felt uncomfortable. Saying “I want more” out loud—even just to myself—brought up all kinds of fears. What if I failed? What if people thought I was ungrateful or full of myself? But I kept going.

I started setting boundaries at work. I took myself seriously in conversations. I stopped deflecting compliments. I wrote down goals that felt scary to say out loud. I admitted, for the first time, that I wanted to start something of my own. And slowly, the world didn’t end. In fact, it started to expand.

I didn’t lose people. I found new ones—people who saw my ambition not as a flaw, but as fire. I didn’t fall flat on my face. I started moving, piece by piece, toward a life that felt like it fit.

And the irony? The more I owned what I wanted, the more grateful I became for everything I already had. Not in a “settle for this” way, but in a “look how far I’ve come” kind of way. It became less about escaping my life and more about deepening it.

If you’ve been biting your tongue, playing small, or waiting for permission—this is it. Here’s your sign to want more unapologetically.

You’re allowed to grow. To evolve. To outgrow versions of your life that no longer fit.

Wanting more doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you alive.