The rise of publicly documented “starting over” journeys reveals not just a desire for freedom, but a deeper need for validation, which is one shaped by a culture that rewards visibility over authenticity.
I have been told a few times in my life that I am an “old soul.” For a long time, I didn’t fully understand what that meant. Was it something I was supposed to grow into, or something I already was? If you ask me today, my answer is simple: yes. Not because it sounds poetic or appealing, but because I have come to value a way of living that feels quiet, grounded, and uninterested in constant explanation.
I stopped explaining myself to people a long time ago. A lot of shifts in my life happened during COVID and in the years that followed. In 2022, while spending time at home in Liberia, someone said something to me that stayed: “Vanessa, you have nothing to prove to nobody.” As simple as it sounded, it meant everything. It wasn’t advice, it was permission. Permission to exist without performance, permission to move without announcing, permission to choose a life that doesn’t require validation from an audience.
There was a time when quitting your job or making a major life decision was private, quiet, uncertain, and deeply personal. It didn’t need to be explained beyond the people closest to you. Today, it has become something else entirely. And let me be clear, this is not coming from a place of thinking I am better than anyone. This is simply an observation. Now, these decisions are announced, documented, and narrated for an audience. They are framed as bold declarations of independence, as proof of courage, as evidence of dreaming bigger. But if we pause for a moment and sit with the reality, we have to ask: how many of these decisions are truly independent? Before the resignation letter is written, before the camera is turned on, there is influence which is subtle, constant, and rarely acknowledged. Social media has created an environment where certain narratives are rewarded: quitting, rebuilding, struggling publicly, and eventually succeeding. These stories are compelling, but they are also repeated so often that they begin to shape how people think their lives should look. In a world where every choice can become content, even the act of starting over begins to look less like freedom and more like imitation.
This does not mean that people don’t genuinely want change. Many do. The desire to leave something behind and build something new is real and valid. But the way these decisions are presented is no longer neutral, it is influenced by culture, trends, and the pressure to be seen.
Platforms like TikTok amplify this even further. People say, “I went viral,” what does going viral actually mean? It means visibility. It means attention. It does not necessarily mean truth, depth, or sustainability. And somewhere in all of this, individuality begins to fade. When everyone is documenting the same type of “unique” journey, following similar scripts, using the same language, it raises an uncomfortable question:
Are we expressing ourselves truthfully or are we performing a version of what we have been taught authenticity looks like or we think authenticity is? There is nothing wrong with wanting more for your life and there is nothing wrong with change. But there is something worth questioning when every personal decision starts to feel like it needs an audience to be real.
- Not everything needs to be seen to be valid.
- Not everything needs to be explained to be understood.
- And not everything needs to be shared to be meaningful.
I quit my public health job in 2022 and moved into an entirely new sector, agriculture. I wanted to grow in my career, challenge myself, experience a different field, and see what I could learn and build from there. I never made a public post announcing that I was leaving my job; I simply went for it. I did receive some negative comments from people who never thought to ask the bigger question: “why?”
Some of the most important and meaningful decisions you will ever make will happen quietly, with no announcement, no camera, and no applause. And maybe that’s where real freedom begins.
Vanessa Korboi 