“How are you?” is, I believe, one of the most frequently asked questions in the world, yet we rarely know how to answer it honestly. Instead, we default to automatic responses like “I’m doing well” or “I’m alright,” which, ironically, is exactly how we appear to the world. Our lives are consistent acts of polished routines, rehearsed dialogues and constant reassurance that everything is going well. Humans naturally tend to behave differently in private and public spaces. However, the public sphere has extended to such an extent that we feel obligated to present ourselves even to people with whom we share no real connection. Modern life is less of an experience and more of a performance.
As millennials, the first societal pressures we faced as students were professional success, financial stability, and eventually personal success through relationships with equally successful partners. Now, it’s no longer limited to that. We are also expected to appear happy in both our personal and professional lives. As everyone around us seems stable, fulfilled, and self-aware, the opposite no longer seems normal but is looked down upon as a deviation. This phenomenon is reinforced by influencers, whether psychiatrists, mindset coaches or motivational speakers, who constantly promote ideas like “choose happiness” and “optimise your mindset.” Constant exposure to such content makes people feel like outcasts if they haven’t figured out everything yet. It has reached a point where people who still have not built a stable life or those who do not project positivity are even seen as immature individuals. And that’s how societal pressure turns into a moral obligation. Nietzsche warned us against that kind of moral system which rewards conformity. We now have to standardise our emotions as well. But is such a standard possible?
One can pretend to fulfill all the standards put out there as a measure of normality, but when the curtains fall, and the actor finds himself backstage, how does one feel then? Do I need to perform to myself in front of the mirror now, convincing myself that I am happy? Even if one does that, how long can it go on? At some point, we are all forced to look inward, introspect, and contemplate. Since when has “doing well in life” been linked to how one feels all the time? Philosophically speaking, happiness has never been considered the ultimate goal due to its impermanence; at best, it is a by-product. So if it is not reliable in nature, then all the pressure to maintain it becomes unstable.
Questioning conformity opens up the path towards clarity. Most emotional disturbances come from confusing controllable and uncontrollable things with each other. To be able to see clearly, one must learn to differentiate between them. Thoughts, judgement, and reactions are controllable, and people, outcomes, and events are uncontrollable. It is quite unreasonable to be dependent on things outside one’s control to feel a certain way. As Epictetus said, “Men are disturbed not by things but by the views they take of them.” Anything that happens does not carry a meaning to it or dictate that you feel a certain way about it. Instead, it comes from our interpretation of it. Happiness depends on favourable outcomes. Stoicism, however, assumes that life will not always unfold in our favour. Instead of chasing something unpredictable and dependent on external circumstances, we should pursue clarity, which comes from within and remains independent of outcomes.
Let us assume one has acquired clarity, is it enough though? We understand the how of life, but what about the “why” of life? If it does not guarantee happiness, then why bother at all? Existential tension emerges from not knowing the reason for existence while still feeling the constant need to act, much like Camus’ Sisyphus endlessly pushing the rock uphill. He is condemned to do so forever. Now what must one do? What will keep him going? Even though life has no inherent meaning, the question of ‘why’ still persists. The tension arises when a resolution is expected when there is none to be offered. The absence of an answer is not a problem to be solved here. Action itself gradually creates meaning as a by-product of effort.
Meaning isn’t guaranteed, and neither is happiness. But modern culture treats happiness as if it is a guaranteed outcome, even when life itself is uncertain. Chasing happiness or the need to constantly feel good becomes an escape from life’s unpredictability, replacing the pursuit of meaning with forced happiness under societal pressure. When happiness replaces meaning, it stops being optional and becomes something expected to be maintained. Being unable to uphold it turns happiness into a personal failure. At this point, is it still a personal pursuit or an obligation we imposed on ourselves?
Do we actually owe it to ourselves to be happy?
Happiness is valuable but not stable. Besides, it is not possible to be constantly in one state of emotion. Treating it as a necessity distorts the real experience of life. What we owe ourselves is honesty: not escape from discomfort but engagement with life the way it actually is, chasing clarity instead of conformity, and pursuing meaning through action. Emotions, be they negative or positive, are fleeting. Suffering comes from how we relate to emotions, especially when we try to cling to them or push them away. The only way to truly experience life is to let emotions pass through at their own pace.