Grateful But Still Wanting More
The Pull of “Something Else”
It’s a strange kind of ache—the one that shows up in the middle of joy. You’re grateful, yet craving. Fulfilled, yet daydreaming. It’s not because you’re broken. It’s because you’re alive in a world that constantly asks: what’s next?
The Quiet Hunger
Growing up in the Philippines, I saw early how the idea of “something else” takes root. Girls scrubbing their arms with papaya soap, not to feel clean, but to become lighter. Ads selling a brighter future if only you were paler, taller, more refined. The goal was never just improvement—it was distance. Distance from the version of you that wasn’t deemed enough.
The obsession didn’t stop at beauty. It trickled into how we loved, how we presented ourselves, how we moved through the world. You learned quickly which traits would earn praise and which ones you quietly edited out. Not because you hated yourself—but because you were taught that something different was better.
The price? Subtle, but constant. Time spent second-guessing your reflection. Money spent chasing a face you were never meant to have. And a quiet feeling that the real you was waiting on the sidelines for permission to come forward.
The Back-and-Forth Life
Now I live in a different country, in a different life. I have meaningful work and a sense of direction. And yet, the craving is still there—just dressed in new clothes.
I swing between wanting more projects and dreaming of rest. More visibility, then more solitude. My sister and I talk about it often. She has the domestic rhythm I long for. I have the freedom she misses. We both love our lives, but somehow find ourselves caught in the same thought: maybe it would feel better if it were just a little different.
It isn’t envy. It’s not even dissatisfaction. It’s the ache of being human in a world that never stops whispering, “You could be more.”
We tell ourselves we’re just exploring possibilities. And maybe we are. But sometimes, the wanting becomes a loop. A soft, persistent pull away from presence.
That’s when I remind myself: Sainya is not about silencing the desire. It’s about meeting it with grace—asking whether this hunger is calling me forward or simply distracting me from what I already have.
Even in Places of Plenty
This isn’t just a developing-world dilemma. In the wealthiest countries, such as Japan, South Korea, and the United States, you’ll find the same restlessness in sharper clothes. People with everything and still not at ease. They hustle through burnout, scroll through curated lives, and wonder why it still doesn’t feel like enough.
The truth is, contentment rarely comes from external comfort. You can be surrounded by abundance and still feel the ache. Because comfort isn’t the cure. Clarity is.
Learning to Want Well
The craving for “something else” isn’t a flaw. It’s a signal. But not every signal needs a response. Not every itch is meant to be scratched.
There’s a difference between expansion and escape. Between choosing something new and chasing it because you think it will finally make you feel whole.
What if you could pause before the impulse? Ask what you’re really longing for. Ask whether it’s rooted in curiosity or comparison. Sometimes the answer is rest. Sometimes it’s expression. And sometimes, it’s simply a reminder that you’re allowed to grow without abandoning what’s already beautiful.
You don’t have to betray the life you’ve built to honor the one you’re becoming.
This Is Not About Settling
It’s about choosing with depth. Wanting what aligns, not just what distracts. Moving toward the next chapter with a full heart, not because you’re running from this one, but because you’re ready.
You can want more and still feel peace.
You can be grateful and still wonder.
And you can hold both—without apology.
Because maybe the truest form of Sainya isn’t dramatic. Maybe it’s simply this: choosing not from fear or fantasy, but from a deep, quiet knowing that this life right here is already yours to shape.