You’re Allowed to Outgrow Things
There is a strange feeling that comes from rereading the same chapter of a book again and again. At first it feels comforting. You know the lines. You know where the story is going. But eventually you start to feel it: there is nothing new to discover. The story is stuck. You are stuck. And the more you sit with it, the more you realize you are ready for the next page, even if you are nervous to turn it.
Life has chapters like that too. Seasons you have loved. Roles that once felt perfect. People or routines that helped you grow. But after a while, something shifts inside you. You learn less. You feel inspired less. You can sense yourself stretching past the edges of what used to fit. These shifts are quiet at first, but they always get louder.
That is usually the moment people freeze. We assume the familiar is supposed to last forever, even when our spirit has already begun to move on.
The Band That I Outgrew
I felt this most clearly with a band I used to be in. At one point in my life, it meant everything. It gave me belonging and direction. It helped shape who I was becoming. But as time went on, I started to feel the disconnect. The people in it wanted different things. The energy was not the same. And the part of me that used to leave rehearsals feeling alive started leaving feeling drained.
It was confusing. It was sad. It was uncomfortable to admit that something I cared about so deeply was no longer a fit for who I was becoming. It did not end in a dramatic way. There was no fight or explosion. It was simply the truth that the chapter had stopped growing with me.
Did I regret leaving in the moment? Yes. Do I still think about it sometimes? Of course. Every meaningful chapter leaves a mark. But staying would have been like rereading a page I already knew by heart. The only way forward was to let myself turn the page.
Outgrowing Something Does Not Mean It Failed
People often treat outgrowing as abandoning, but they are not the same. You can appreciate something and still recognize that it no longer fits. You can love the memories and still choose a new direction. You can be grateful for what something gave you and still give yourself permission to grow past it.
Growth looks like:
• realizing something that once filled your bucket now leaves it empty
• wanting different things than you used to
• feeling restless in a place that used to feel safe
• noticing your energy pulling you somewhere new
None of those signs mean something is wrong. They simply mean you are changing.
The Psychology of Turning the Page
Identity is not something you choose once. It is something you revise throughout your life. Your brain continuously updates based on experiences, relationships, and the values you uncover as you move forward. So when a chapter stops matching those internal shifts, you feel it.
Restlessness.
Boredom.
A tightness in your chest you cannot quite name.
A sense of living a life that used to be yours but is not anymore.
These feelings are not failures. They are invitations.
You Are Allowed to Move Forward
You do not owe the world the older version of you. You do not have to stay inside chapters that no longer feel alive. There is no award for holding onto something past its time. There is only the cost of shrinking yourself to make the past comfortable.
You are allowed to grow.
You are allowed to want something else.
You are allowed to choose the next version of yourself.
You are allowed to change the shell you have been living in.
You do not need permission, but if you want it, here it is:
You are allowed to outgrow things, even good things.
A Small Challenge
Think about one part of your life that feels like rereading the same chapter. A habit, a routine, a relationship, a commitment, or an identity you have carried for years. Ask yourself if it still matches who you are now.
Then ask the next question:
If you met yourself today for the first time, would you choose this chapter again?
If the answer is no, maybe it is time to turn the page.