The Beauty Of Being Boring

Opinion: Ambition Is Overrated, and I’m Happier for It

By Sorcha Ní Bhraonáin

Galway, Ireland - I have no ambition, and I say that without apology or self-deprecation. I am a woman in her mid-40s, living in a small Irish town, and I have chosen peace over performance. I don’t want a promotion, a six-figure business, or to “become the best version of myself.” I want to be left alone.

That, in today’s climate, is an act of quiet rebellion.

We are living through peak ambition culture, where every hour must be monetised and every hobby must scale. The rise of “boss chick” energy—the hustle-glamour hybrid that equates burnout with success—has made rest seem like failure and contentment look like surrender. But increasingly, I’m seeing signs that the cracks are showing.

Let’s look at the numbers.

A 2022 Deloitte Women at Work report surveyed 5,000 women across 10 countries and found that over 53% reported higher stress levels than the year before. Nearly half (46%) said they felt burned out, and one in three had taken time off due to mental health challenges—but only 43% felt comfortable discussing these issues at work. That’s not empowerment. That’s structural gaslighting.

In Ireland, a 2023 study by Mental Health Ireland reported a 37% increase in anxiety and exhaustion among working women since 2019, driven by overlapping pressures of work, caregiving, and financial strain. And it’s not just full-time jobs—women are increasingly overrepresented in unpaid or “invisible” labour. According to CSO data, Irish women spend twice as much time on unpaid work compared to men, including childcare, elder care, and housework.

So, remind me—what exactly are we aspiring to?

Ambition, as it’s sold to women, is no longer just about career progression. It’s a 360-degree performance: be a powerhouse at work, a present parent, a socially conscious citizen, a wellness guru, a good friend, a fit partner, and ideally, document it all with excellent lighting on Instagram. We’ve simply replaced traditional domestic expectations with professional ones—and stacked both on top of each other.

It’s no surprise, then, that the World Health Organization named burnout as an occupational phenomenon in 2019, and women are statistically more likely to experience it due to disproportionate emotional and cognitive load. Add to that the aesthetic pressure—the anti-aging regimens, the hyper-visibility of youth culture—and you’ve got a lifestyle that demands everything while offering very little back.

And here’s the kicker: it’s not even working.

Despite doing more, women report feeling less satisfied and more isolated. A Harvard Business Review piece in 2023 noted that ambitious women are more likely than their male peers to feel “emotionally depleted” by their jobs, especially in industries that reward visibility over value.

I opted out. Not in a dramatic, bloggable way. I didn’t flee the city to open a candle shop in the west of Ireland. I just stopped playing along. I now work three days a week in a local charity shop. I cook dinner at home. I read secondhand books. My ambitions stretch only as far as keeping my herbs alive and making it through the week without attending any forced networking events.

I am not building an empire. I am maintaining a manageable life.

Multitasking has become the standard operating mode for modern womanhood, but it’s overrated. Studies show that multitasking reduces productivity by up to 40% and increases cognitive errors—yet it’s women who are still expected to juggle everything with grace. The result? Half-done projects. Forgotten appointments. Frayed nerves. Everything gets done sloppily because everything is being done at once.

There’s dignity in slowness. There’s sanity in structure. And there’s strength in saying, “No, I don’t want more.”

So, no, I don’t have a mentor. I’m not “manifesting” anything. My inbox is tidy because I rarely email anyone. I don’t have a side hustle, a personal brand, or a morning routine that involves affirmations and matcha.

I have space. I have time. I have enough.

If that sounds boring, then I suppose I’m boring. But if the alternative is exhaustion dressed up as aspiration, I’ll stay boring—and rested—any day of the week.