Curate Your Own List, Wear Your Own Filter, Set Your Own Bar

The Power of Stepping Away

Can you imagine hearing the bustle of Chinese New Year all around and choosing instead the peace and anonymity that comes with distance? When I was relocated in my thirties, I didn’t just skip the annual gatherings—I grabbed my passport and carved out a life in Bangkok, then Shanghai, and later Hong Kong. Those cities became my silent witnesses, allowing me to slip away from the mainstream and learn what it truly means to observe, reflect, and belong on my own terms.

Even today, returning to Singapore after two decades abroad, my perspective is sharper yet more gentle. It’s the mix of familiarity and novelty that gives each memory its meaning.

After years as a “foreigner” elsewhere, coming home to Singapore made me notice all the invisible scripts. The algorithm of tradition and trend, so strong here, made me re-evaluate what feels truly mine. Sometimes, stepping away makes you both appreciate and question what you used to accept without thought.

Refusing the Social Script

Distance gave me the courage to say no, kindly but firmly. Not every invitation must be answered. Not every expectation must be met. The more I observed the way people get swept up in what’s “in,” the more I realized how precious it is to curate your own list—to live by intent, not impulse.

The algorithm knows us better than we know ourselves—or so it claims. It feeds us what it thinks we want: the trendiest destinations, the latest fashion, the biggest houses, the most “liked” lifestyles. But somewhere along the way, we forget to ask: Do I actually want this? Or am I just performing for an audience I didn’t even choose?

The Human Pattern: Why We Chase What Doesn’t Fit

It’s not our fault. Humans are wired for comparison—it’s how we’ve survived for millennia. But in the age of social media, comparison isn’t just about keeping up with the neighbor next door; it’s about measuring up to a curated, global highlight reel.

That is a crucial and thoughtful distinction. Expanding the peer group beyond Singapore and highlighting the difference between an admirable mission and insincere intent (doing things for the wrong reason) will significantly strengthen the central theme of setting your own bar authentically.

I see this pressure not just in my local circle, but in friends living overseas too—the push to keep up with what’s trending seems pervasive in many countries. There’s an unspoken pressure to tick certain boxes: the condo, the designer bag, the overseas education for the kids.

It’s not just about comfort; it’s about social proof and performance. And sometimes, this competitive spirit infiltrates activities that are otherwise good and admirable—like community leadership or philanthropy. While the mission itself is excellent, the intent behind the participation can sometimes feel less sincere, driven more by visibility and status than by passion.

This is what I call the difference between chasing validation and doing things for the right reason. When you don’t meet those externally set markers, or when your true motivations are questioned by others who are still playing the game, there’s a quiet shame, a fear of falling short of a bar that was never truly yours.

But here’s the thing: The Joneses are exhausted too. They’re just as trapped in the cycle of more—more likes, more stuff, more validation—without stopping to ask if it’s making them happier.

Wearing My Own Filter: From Patagonia to a Thai Regret

So, what does writing your own script look like? For me, it’s about consciously curating my life based on my curiosities, not the crowd’s. While my feed was filled with pictures of the Amalfi Coast, I was learning to salsa in a casa in Havana and feeling my soul quieten in the majestic, windswept tranquility of Patagonia. Those were my pilgrimages.

But let me be perfectly honest—I’m not infallible! The one time I let Instagram trick me was right after Covid. Seduced by stunning photos, I embarked on a long, expensive road trip to a resort in Thailand, only to find the reality was severely oversold. The scenery was mediocre, the magic was absent, and I deeply regretted the time and money spent (the round-trip drive cost the same as a room night!).

It was a powerful, tangible lesson. It reinforced that the algorithm doesn’t feel disappointment; you do. It was the final nudge I needed to fully trust my own compass.

Insights: How to Wear Your Own Filter

How do we build that trust? How do we curate our own list and set our own bar? It’s a conscious practice. Here’s what’s been working for me.

1. Define Success on Your Own Terms

For me, success isn’t about the size of my home or the labels in my closet. It’s about warmth—literally and figuratively. I’d rather have a cozy, sunlit space filled with travel books and memories than a sprawling house that feels empty. I’d rather wear a well-loved, secondhand cashmere sweater than a fast-fashion piece that falls apart after two washes.

Ask yourself: What does success look like when no one’s watching?

2. Curate Your Adventures, Don’t Just Collect Them

I now choose travel based on a deep curiosity, not coolness. I hate crowds, so I’m on a perpetual search for the less accessible, the pristine, the quietly beautiful. It might not make for a flashy social media album, but the memories are etched into my soul. The goal is the experience itself, not the perception of the experience.

3. Trust Your Own Compass, Especially When It Points Off-Map

That voice that told me to skip Chinese New Year, to move to Bangkok, to choose Patagonia over Positano? That’s my compass. It doesn’t always point to the easiest or most popular destination, but it always points toward growth and authenticity. The Thai resort mistake was a lesson in recalibrating it, not ignoring it.

4. Practice Gratitude for What You Have (Not What You Lack)

It’s easy to fall into the trap of more—more money, more experiences, more validation. But I’ve found that the happiest people aren’t the ones with the most; they’re the ones who appreciate what they already have.

I keep a gratitude digital album—not because it’s trendy, but because it grounds me. On tough days, I flip through old entries and remember: I have enough. I am enough.

5. Accept That You Can’t (and Shouldn’t) Do It All

There’s a myth that aging means slowing down, that we should squeeze every last drop out of life before it’s “too late.” But what if the real wisdom is in knowing when to rest? When to say no? When to let go of the need to win at everything?

I’ve learned that you don’t win because someone else loses. Life isn’t a zero-sum game. It’s about finding joy in the journey, not the destination.

Reality Check: The Inevitable Dips

Of course, setting your own bar doesn’t mean life will always be smooth. There will be days when doubt creeps in, when you wonder if you’re “doing enough” or “being enough.” There will be moments when the noise of the world feels deafening.

But here’s the secret: Emotional resilience isn’t about never feeling doubt; it’s about knowing how to sit with it. It’s about having a toolkit—whether it’s a gratitude practice, a trusted friend, or a quiet walk—to remind you of what truly matters.

The Long View

I am in my fifth decade. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life is too short to live by someone else’s rules. The algorithm will keep pushing, society will keep expecting, and the Joneses will keep upgrading. But none of that matters if it doesn’t align with your values.

So curate your own list. Wear your own filter. Set your own bar. And when in doubt, ask yourself: Does this bring me joy? Does this feel authentic?

Because at the end of the day, the only validation that matters is your own.

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Now, I’d love to hear from you: What’s one thing you’ve stopped chasing because it didn’t align with your values? Share in the comments—I’d love to know I’m not alone in this! 💛