I still catch myself shrinking when someone asks about my 'career goals'—like I'm about to be scolded for not wanting more corporate ladder. The 'goals' conversation always feels like a performance review of my worth as a human. It's not about what I WANT, it's about fitting into someone else's pre-approved box, and God forbid I don't aspire to the corner office. It’s the assumption that ambition looks a certain way that gets me. As if my “quiet quitting” wasn’t just me finally choosing survival over slow self-immolation.