When the Life You're Supposed to Want Almost Kills You
A conversation with my friend AJ Gibson about coming back from the edge and choosing to stay.
Content Warning: This post discusses suicide and suicidal ideation. If you’re struggling right now there are people who want to help: 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call or text, 24/7). Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741. Trevor Project for LGBTQ+ youth: 1-866-488-7386.
You know what’s wild? You can have everything our culture tells you to want: the career, the recognition, the paycheck, the whole thing, and still be standing at a tenth-floor bathroom window, seriously weighing whether to jump.
My friend AJ Gibson had it all. Red carpet interviews with Hollywood’s A-list (including Lady Gaga!). Entertainment reporting for major shows. The glamorous LA life. And yet he still found himself staring out his 10th floor window thinking about ending it all.
The nation’s first LGBTQ+ morning talk radio show he went on to host? The viral wedding (where I was a bridesmaid, by the way)? The book that hit #1 on Amazon? The life he actually loves now? All of that came after. After he chose to stay. After he learned something most of us resist our entire lives: sometimes you have to let go of who you were supposed to be to become who you actually are.
AJ and I just recorded [this conversation] for Checking In, and I can’t stop thinking about what he said about that moment in the bathroom. He didn’t have some grand epiphany about his purpose. He didn’t suddenly see his whole future laid out. He just thought: “My mom would be so sad.” That was his reason, and it was enough.
Here’s what I wish someone had told me earlier in my career, what I hope you hear right now: Finding your reasons to stay isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about identifying what’s actually real for you.
The Psychology of “Supposed To”
In my therapy practice, I see this pattern constantly with high-achievers who’ve checked every box, followed every rule, built the impressive life…and they’re dying inside, considering whether the life they’ve built is worth living.
Why? Because they built someone else’s definition of success, living for external validation, for other people’s approval, for some invisible audience that’s never satisfied. And here’s the thing about that kind of achievement: it will never, ever be enough. You can’t fill the emptiness with accomplishments when the emptiness comes from not knowing who you actually are underneath all the performing.
That kind of rigidity—clinging to one vision of what life should look like, refusing to adapt or change course—it’s not just psychologically unhealthy, it can literally kill you.
The Power of the Pivot
Here’s something I had to learn the hard way, both as a therapist and as someone who’s had to reinvent herself: The ability to let go of who you were and become someone new isn’t weakness, it’s one of the most resilient and psychologically healthy things you can do. And sometimes, it’s literally what saves your life.
AJ pivoted multiple times in his forties. He let go of the entertainment industry that was hollowing him out and now he’s a realtor and also guides families on tours of the Capitol and DC monuments—work where he gets to show up authentically as a gay man, modeling what it looks like to live in your truth. He told me about a chaperone who told him, “I bet you’re the first homosexual most of these students have ever met.” AJ’s response? “I guarantee I’m not. I’m just the first one comfortable enough to live in my truth in front of them.”
And here’s what I love about his story: the pivot didn’t come from a place of having his whole life mapped out. It came from staying long enough to discover what actually mattered to him, from finding his actual people—not his network, his people, the ones where he could drop the act completely—and from building something real instead of something impressive.
You don’t need to have the next chapter figured out, you just need to be willing to close the one that’s killing you.
What This Means for You Right Now
Maybe you’re not at a literal window, but maybe you’re at your own version of that edge, where everything looks fine from the outside and you’re falling apart on the inside, where you’ve achieved everything you thought you were supposed to achieve and you still feel empty.
Here’s what I want you to hear: Your reasons for staying don’t have to be profound, they just have to be yours.
Not wanting to hurt someone you love? Curiosity about what might be possible if you stayed? Not being ready to give up yet even though you can’t articulate why? All of these are real, valid reasons to stay, and they’re enough to hold onto while you figure out what comes next.
So here’s what I want you to do today: ask yourself these questions and start identifying what’s real for you:
What’s one thing in my life that feels genuinely mine (not performed for someone else)?
Who are the people where I can completely drop the act?
If I weren’t afraid of disappointing anyone, what would I change about my life?
Then give yourself permission to pivot, to let go of the version of yourself that’s suffocating you, to build something that actually feels good to live, not just looks good from the outside.
It’s never too late, and AJ’s proof of that. Whatever you think you’ve messed up, whatever time you think you’ve wasted, you can start again. It won’t look how you planned, but it’ll probably be better because it’ll actually be yours.
Listen to the Full Conversation
AJ and I talked for an hour about all of this: what it actually feels like when achievement doesn’t fix the emptiness, how rock bottom became solid ground to rebuild on, finding your actual people, and the small shifts between performing and living. It’s raw and real and might be exactly what you need to hear right now.
Listen here: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube
Content warning: We discuss suicide and suicidal ideation openly. If you need support: 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call or text, 24/7).
The life you’re performing for everyone else will never be enough. But the life you build for yourself: messy, imperfect, real, flexible enough to change when you need it to? That one’s worth staying for.
With care, Dr. Therese 💜