We were sitting on the couch. Sunday night. Nothing special.

Then out of nowhere, she asked…

"What do you want?"

I looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Like... what do you actually want? For your life. For us. For yourself. What are you building toward?"

Silence.

I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out. I had goals, sure.

"Get promoted eventually."

"Stay in shape."

"Save more money."

But what did I actually want? What was I building toward?

I had no idea.

And the look on her face when she realized I didn't have an answer?

Concern. Like she was watching someone drift out to sea. She didn't push it. Just said, "I think you should figure that out," kissed me on the forehead, and went to bed.

I sat there for another 2 hours. Just... numb.

Because she was right. I used to know. At 22, I had fire. Crystal-clear vision of who I was becoming.

That guy knew exactly what he wanted. He woke up with purpose. Made decisions quickly because he knew where he was going. And somewhere between 22 and 23, I lost it.

Not because I failed. Because I succeeded just enough to get comfortable. Got a decent job. Built a decent body. Found a decent relationship. Everything was... fine.

But fine isn't a vision. Fine isn't purpose. Fine is just existing with better furniture. Sitting on that couch, unable to answer a simple question, I realized:

I'd become a passenger in my own life.

Going through motions. Checking boxes. Reacting instead of creating. I wasn't building anything. I was just maintaining.

Maintaining my job. Maintaining my body. Maintaining my relationship.

And maintenance isn't masculine. It's not leadership. It's not purpose.

It's just coasting.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

Because once you see it, you can't unsee it.

I thought about all the small moments where I'd stopped leading. Stopped deciding. Stopped being intentional.

"What do you want to do this weekend?" "I don't know, whatever you want."

"Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" "Uh, probably still here, just... better?"

Every answer was passive. Reactive. Drifting.

The guy I used to be would've been disgusted.

The scariest part? I couldn't pinpoint when I lost it. Just a slow fade from clarity to fog.

So I made a decision.

Not to "find myself" or any of that vague nonsense.

I decided to rebuild my compass.

I forced myself to answer:

"What do I actually want?"

Not what I should want. Not what looks good. What do I want?

For my body. For my career. For my relationship. For my life.

And once I had clarity? Everything changed.

Purpose creates momentum. Clarity creates confidence. Direction creates discipline.

Within a month, she noticed. Two months in, she told me: "You're different. I don't know what changed, but... you're back."

That's when I knew I'd found it again.

Here's what I learned…

You can't be a man without a mission.

Doesn't matter how fit you are. How much you make. How stable your life looks. If you don't know what you're building toward, you're just a high-functioning zombie.

The moment you lose your compass, you lose your edge. Your presence. Your ability to lead.

But you can get it back.

You just have to stop avoiding the question.

"What do you actually want?"

Answer it. Write it down. Get specific. Then start building toward it.

That's how you stop drifting. That's how you reclaim yourself.

Until next time,

Okello Luri

P.S. If you can't answer that question right now, that's exactly why you feel lost. Sit with it this week. Write whatever comes to mind. No filtering. Just honesty. The clarity will come.