The Age of Understanding

Category: psychology

  • The Word I Would Ban

    If you could permanently ban a word from general usage, which one would it be? Why?

    If I could permanently ban one word from everyday language, it wouldn’t be a swear word.


    It wouldn’t be slang.


    It wouldn’t even be something obviously harmful.


    It would be:


    Should.


    Not because it’s dramatic.
    Not because it’s offensive.
    But because it is quietly corrosive.


    The Problem With “Should”


    “Should” sounds responsible.


    Mature.


    Productive.


    Adult.


    But listen closely to how it shows up:


    I should exercise more.
    I should be further along by now.
    I should have known better.
    They should act differently.
    You should be grateful.


    It sounds motivational.
    It rarely is.


    Underneath “should” is often something much less noble:


    Shame
    Comparison
    Unrealistic timelines
    Moral superiority
    Regret dressed up as logic


    “Should” doesn’t ask questions.
    It delivers verdicts.


    And verdicts rarely invite growth.


    The Quiet Pressure of a Small Word
    In cognitive psychology, “should statements” are considered a cognitive distortion. They create rigid expectations about how we and others must behave.


    Rigid expectations feel structured.
    But they are brittle.


    When we don’t meet them, we don’t gain clarity.


    We gain guilt.


    When others don’t meet them, we don’t gain curiosity.


    We gain resentment.


    “Should” sounds like discipline.


    Often, it’s just pressure wearing a respectable outfit.


    A Small Experiment
    Try this shift:


    Instead of:
    I should be better at this.

    Try:
    I want to improve at this.
    I’m disappointed in my progress.
    This matters to me.


    Notice the difference?


    One is accusation.
    The other is information.


    One tightens the chest.
    The other opens the door.


    Language shapes thought.
    Thought shapes emotion.
    Emotion shapes behavior.


    Sometimes the smallest word carries the heaviest weight.


    If “Should” Actually Worked…
    If “should” were an effective motivational tool, none of us would need alarm clocks.


    “I should wake up early.”
    “I should stop scrolling.”
    “I should drink more water.”


    And yet… here we are.


    If “should” burned calories, we’d all be Olympic athletes.


    What I’d Replace It With
    Not lower standards.
    Not apathy.
    Not indifference.


    I’d replace “should” with awareness.
    Instead of:
    I should be further ahead.
    Ask:
    According to who?


    Instead of:
    I should handle this better.
    Ask:
    What would handling this well actually look like?


    The goal isn’t to remove responsibility.
    It’s to remove unnecessary self-punishment disguised as productivity.


    If I could ban one word, it wouldn’t be to control language.


    It would be to invite clarity.


    Because growth rarely begins with accusation.


    It begins with honesty.


    And sometimes the most powerful change you can make isn’t in your schedule…


    It’s in your vocabulary.

  • To the Girl Who Navigated Alone

    What I Would Tell My Teenage Self

    I wouldn’t start with advice.
    I would start with an apology.


    I’m sorry you felt alone in rooms full of people.


    I’m sorry you thought being “low maintenance” made you easier to love.
    I’m sorry you learned so early to swallow what hurt.


    You were just a girl.
    You were not dramatic.
    You were not weak.
    You were not asking for too much.


    You were asking to be seen.


    I’m sorry you had to grow up without a map.


    Other girls had parents guiding them — helping them choose, correcting them, protecting them, reassuring them when they doubted themselves.

    You were navigating without direction.


    You learned to make decisions alone.
    To carry responsibility quietly.
    To pretend you weren’t scared when you were.


    No one told you it was okay not to know what you were doing.


    So you acted like you did.


    That wasn’t maturity.
    That was survival.


    I know how heavy it felt sometimes.


    The quiet sadness you didn’t always have words for.
    The way you froze instead of fought.
    The way you convinced yourself it didn’t matter — when it did.


    You thought strength meant not needing anyone.


    It doesn’t.


    Strength is letting yourself feel without shaming yourself for it.


    I would tell you this gently, because I know you wouldn’t believe it right away:


    You are worthy of love.


    Not because you are useful.
    Not because you are responsible.
    Not because you hold everything together.


    Worthy.
    As you are.


    Before you achieve anything.
    Before you prove anything.
    Before you fix anything.


    There will be seasons of pain.


    There will be loss.
    There will be moments when your body feels like it has betrayed you.
    There will be days when you question your value.


    But listen carefully:


    None of it is a verdict on your worth.


    You survive more than you think you will.
    You grow softer, not harder.
    You learn to speak — not loudly, but clearly.


    And one day you will realize the sadness didn’t ruin you.


    It deepened you.


    You will build a life that feels steadier.


    You will wake up some mornings and feel peace — not because everything is perfect, but because you are no longer fighting yourself.


    You will laugh more than you expect to.
    You will forgive more than you thought you could.
    You will choose differently.


    And you will stop chasing love.


    Because you will finally understand:


    You deserved it all along.

  • The Psychological State of Boredom

    What Bores Me

    By Betty-Jean

    We tend to think boredom means having nothing to do.


    But boredom isn’t about emptiness — it’s about disconnection.


    Psychologically, boredom is a state where the mind wants engagement but can’t find it. It’s a mismatch between attention and meaning. Your brain is alert enough to want stimulation, yet what’s in front of you doesn’t feel worthy of your energy. Restlessness sets in. Time stretches. You become aware of your dissatisfaction.


    Boredom isn’t laziness. It’s feedback.


    And what bores me?
    It changes.


    That’s the interesting part.


    Some days I’m bored by repetition — predictable conversations, surface-level thinking, tasks that feel mechanical. Other days, I crave simplicity and am bored by noise, complexity, and unnecessary urgency.


    Sometimes I’m bored by small talk.
    Other times, I’m bored by intensity.


    I can be bored in a crowded room and completely engaged in solitude. I can be bored by scrolling endlessly, yet captivated by a single deep idea.


    What bores me depends on:
    My energy
    My environment
    My emotional state
    Whether something feels meaningful or merely busy


    Boredom, for me, isn’t about activity level. It’s about alignment.


    If I’m misaligned with what I’m doing — if there’s no growth, no insight, no spark — I feel it quickly.


    But here’s what I’ve learned: boredom is rarely the enemy. It’s a signal.


    It tells me I’m ready for a shift. A deeper conversation. A new challenge. Or sometimes — just stillness without distraction.


    What bores me today may not bore me tomorrow.


    And maybe that’s the point.