The Importance of Thought Exercises
Almost every day, I wake up and engage with a personally curated thought exercise to help me move through life, not physically, but emotionally and mentally. Serenity. Peace. Sovereignty. These are internal states of being. They can have an external presence, but they begin within. Thought exercises help me understand myself better.
In one of my videos and blogs, not entirely dedicated to this exercise but connected by the theme of choice, I asked: “If I had 24 hours to live, how would I spend it?” in as much detail as possible. No loopholes. The point is to understand yourself better. If you struggle with the idea of death, that’s another question worth engaging: “Why do you have an issue with the cycle of life and death?”
People carry fears and misconceptions about life, and those fears propel us in certain directions. Every choice has a consequence. Life is trial and error. Risk and revelation.
I create many thought exercises. The most recent one, not my invention but one I’ve adopted deeply, asks: “What do I really want in life — beyond surface-level desires?”
A group I speak with, and I explore this question together, peeling back the layers of what we think we want to uncover what we truly need. Society conditions us to desire things that symbolize deeper needs: power, safety, emotional nourishment, respect, influence, importance, value, trauma, scarcity, morality, hierarchy....These are just some of the words that come to mind right now, while writing this.
Most people fixate on two things: money and romantic companionship. Those who lack both often prioritize love first, money second. Then there are people like me — rare, perhaps — who don’t see romantic companionship as a priority. I’m forty now, and even after my divorce at thirty-two, I haven’t sought it. That was a younger pursuit. Back then, I was chasing companionship from a place of low self-esteem, mental struggle, and unrecognized neurodivergence, along with the script that romantic companionship equals fulfillment and happiness. Not necessarily true. It's just one of many aspects to address in life. Now... Add an autoimmune condition that disrupts my hormones, and you begin to see how fragile equilibrium can be. Doctors tell me hormones are everything, and I agree: they can make or break a life.
Understanding my neurodivergence helped me see my emotional capacity, how easily it fills and overwhelms me. When that happens, I either shut down or explode. I prefer to shut down, but ideally, I regulate in a safe space. Some people don’t respect that; they push boundaries even after I explain why I need space. I’ve learned that people who ignore those needs aren’t worth keeping close.
I mentioned this because there are so many factors for me to consider with my own life and who's in it. Not everyone is meant to be in my life, which is why romantic companionship is not the priority for me. The truth is, it's challenging to find someone who actually cares about your well-being and is willing to accept several aspects of you. I always say I'm an acquired taste, or I'm just that cookie that has different surprise ingredients. Therefore, each bite is going to be a different experience.
I enjoy cookies, so hush.
But back to what I'm talking about...
Many people want romantic relationships — soulmates, compatibility, and the promise of safety. When another woman and I admitted we preferred money, we had to explain why. For me, money equals autonomy; agency over my body and the ability to say no. It means not being chained to anyone. Romantic companionship, for me, isn’t about filling loneliness; it’s about sanctuary.
We both said, half-joking but deeply serious, that we’d marry a wealthy person who could take care of us. Because we’re exhausted — always helping, working, and splitting our energy. In past relationships, I gave far more than I received. Now, I want someone who can give back. I know that desire stems from burnout and from emotional scarcity. When I discovered the concept of emotional abundance, it intrigued me; a counterweight to the bankruptcy I’d been living most of my life.
There’s a core to every want, a motivator beneath every pursuit. People chase autonomy and agency through capitalism, through creation. YouTube is a perfect example: people monetize their lives, their relationships, their advice. Couples content, especially, can become toxic. A performance sustained for profit. The healthiest couples I know keep their love private. When relationships built on monetization collapse, the business collapses too. I’d never start a business with a romantic partner; it’s too complicated. Even with friends, I compensate them fairly for their help.
I’ve volunteered my writing for organizations, always upfront that I don’t expect payment — though often, they give something in return. However, it's important to understand how complicated it can get when you don't ask the question, "What if we don't work out? What happens next after that?" People have to learn to ask the important questions, because they clear things up right away. It breaks the delusion for a bit and creates guardrails until you can figure out if this is a good idea. Most of the time, it's probably a bad idea, unless there's a contract agreement.
How capitalism works today creates an unhealthy dynamic between people and stifles genuine connection. A connection that's built unconditionally with no exchange. We need to acknowledge that people do network and use each other as tools to gain things. I think L.A. is a good breeding ground for those dynamics.
Another question I ask: “If capitalism no longer existed, and all your needs were met, would you still pursue what you’re doing now?” That includes content creation, advice-giving, blogging, and YouTube — all of it.
I ask because I have two YouTube channels: one gaming, one focused on using media as a lens for reality. The gaming channel began as a way to face my fear of visibility and to rekindle nostalgia, the feeling of gathering with friends to watch and play. As adults, that connection fades. If all my needs were met, I’d still do it for that feeling of shared experience. The other channel, of course, I’d keep. I love talking about my interests and chaotic thoughts. Even here on Tumblr, I write long-form posts not for gain but for joy. I’d keep doing this at the end of the world.
That’s why I wrote: “I’m not afraid of losing my creativity. I fear losing the means to express it.” That line captures my deepest truth. Expression is who I am. Creativity is my spark. It’s my soul.
So when I say, jokily but wholly sincere, “If something favors me with another romantic relationship, I want to marry a rich woman,” I know what I mean. I want safety. I’m exhausted. I want to be cared for, to stop worrying. That’s the core desire beneath the humor. It’s the longing for rest, for sanctuary, and for peace.
