Internally Speaking
Intrinsic (adjective) — something that comes from within; a quality, motivation, or value that exists naturally and authentically inside a person, untouched by outside pressure or expectation. Intrinsic things feel genuine, self-driven, and rooted in who we are at our core.
In high school, I took an AP Psychology class not because I needed the credit, but because after a few firsthand run-ins with my mental health and the way my own brain operates, I genuinely wanted to understand it all better. Even now, I still find myself spiraling down late-night rabbit holes of psychology videos or reading the articles my mom sends me from The New York Times, highlighter in hand like I’m prepping for an exam that doesn’t exist.
Out of everything I’ve learned, the topic that always pulls me back in is intrinsic motivation. It is the idea that our internal, often subliminal drives shape our day-to-day choices far more than we realize. It suggests that the paths we think we are “deciding” on might actually be influenced by something deeper, something already written into us.
Recently, I’ve found myself standing at a lot of crossroads. Especially in the past six months. Do I stay home and soak up this time with my family while I still can, or do I go back out into the world and chase the feeling of movement that has always called to me? Do I push my body in the gym or let myself melt into the couch? Do I chase the dream or settle into the safety of reality?
On the surface, these feel like choices I’m consciously making. The more I pay attention though, the more I realize I’m not. At least, not entirely.
Being in your twenties is strange, especially when you are living at home again. Your parents are still there, but not in the same way. They act more like bumpers in a bowling lane. They are supportive and steady, but they are no longer steering anything for you. No one is waking you up for school, reminding you to work out, or mapping out a path you are supposed to follow. Suddenly, the responsibility falls back onto you. That is when real internal motivation starts to matter. It becomes that intrinsic sense of purpose that nudges you toward the next step, even when you have no idea what the step after that looks like.
Intrinsic motivation is not something you can set out to find. It appears on its own, in its own time, and at its own pace. It is rooted deep in your core, and you only start to notice it when you find yourself subconsciously pushing toward abstract goals. These are not goals that result in a medal or a finish line, but the ones that bring true internal satisfaction. You pursue them simply because it feels good, because you are passionate, and because the pull toward them cannot always be explained. You just know it feels right when you are moving toward that non-concrete goal, that bigger picture that matters more to you than anything that can be physically measured.
Reflecting on my 21 years of life, I’ve realized that I have always followed that intrinsic path. This obviously supports the point I’m making. But in the moment, and honestly for most of those years, I could never explain why I felt so compelled to see certain things through. Many of those choices did not line up neatly with the big, concrete goals I had mapped out for myself. Even now, with more awareness, I still catch myself chasing side paths simply because something in me feels pulled toward them. My move to Europe, and now this gap year, were not part of the “official plan.” Yet each decision came with this strange, calming certainty, as if it were feeding a deeper part of me. It is the kind of soul-level satisfaction that does not make sense on paper, but makes perfect sense inside.
At the end of the day, I think that is the quiet beauty of intrinsic motivation. It rarely announces itself, but it always shows up when you need it most. It guides you through the messy seasons of your twenties, the uncertainty of big moves, the discipline of running when you would rather stay in bed, and the vulnerability of choosing a relationship that feels right even when it is complicated. It is not loud or dramatic. It is that steady pull that nudges you toward the life that actually fits you. The more I learn to trust it, even when I do not have the full picture, the more I realize that every “side path” has been part of the bigger story I am meant to follow anyway.