The Kind of Stability I’m Actually Looking For

I’ve spent most of my adult life chasing a word I never fully understood: stability. Not the kind you put on a résumé or a five-year plan, but the kind that lets your body exhale. The kind that makes it possible to wake up and feel, if only for a moment, that you’re allowed to be here.

Get good grades. Go to college. Get a well-paid job.

Do everything right, and you’ll be safe.

How many of us were told those lies repeatedly growing up? Those four lines acted like a sacred oath to me. A daily mantra that would justify all the struggles and the frustration that came along the way.

And where did that lead to?

Nowhere. A void. Chaos. Confusion. Ever-changing contradictions and delusions as the initial promises melted like the ice caps. Instead of stability and achievement, I navigated through constant trouble and mid-level assignments. Grinding harder didn’t make things different. I also witnessed the toll it took on people around me. No joy. No sense of purpose. All the while, the social environment built over the last 80 years keeps crumbling away little by little.

I know all too well what it means to navigate around instability. As far as I can remember, we’ve always lived in troubled times. I’ve been living in a constant one ever since I came of age. I’m one of the last generations who remembers 9/11 and how it changed everything for the worse; I witnessed the subprime crisis of 2008 right as I was going into adolescence, and my mid-twenties were brutally stopped in their tracks by the worst pandemic in a 100 years.

And of course, let’s not forget the ever-accelerating climate crisis that seems impossible to stop now. Crisis and emergency have become the new normal. We try to live through it, try to hold on to the last remnants of a social contract that was an anomaly in time.

So what can we do when what was supposed to be meritocracy collapses? When reaching for our phone immediately feels overwhelming?

For me, it means to focus on the essential. Finding a way to live in accordance with how I feel.

Stability is A Place to Feel Safe

Ever since childhood, I experienced my surroundings in a more intense way than most people. I couldn’t stand bright lights, crowded rooms, and constant noise. Every emotion immediately cranked up to 11, regardless of the situation. To that end, I was always on the lookout for a calm, quiet environment with enough low-intensity to help me regulate myself and get productive.

This need felt especially challenging when it came to finding housing. As a student and a young underpaid worker, your choices are obviously more limited. Sometimes I was lucky, other times less. But every hunt for a new place feels more than just finding a roof — it’s about looking for a sense of stability, a way to find a ground where you can take roots and grow in an environment that matches your needs.

That’s the main reason why I decided to move to Tallinn. I knew I needed to be somewhere that matched my personality and would help me find new grounds. The decision in itself was overwhelming — did I think about giving up right before departure? Of course. But I also knew that I needed to take that step to move forward.

Fortunately, all my fears quickly dissipated in the first days following my arrival. I was welcomed into a city where calm and honesty were valued. Gone were the constant interruptions from nosy coworkers or the neighbors with disrespect for quiet hours. I was welcomed into a community where creative work was respected—even encouraged—and where I wasn’t forced to put on a facade to navigate through the public space.

Granted, this approach isn’t for everyone. People who need constant noise and social proximity will probably feel unease, especially during the winter when the light goes dark in the middle of the afternoon. But for me, this new scenery allowed me to create my own small community and a mental space where I can feel safe.

And despite the intense cold, the early night times, and a completely unknown language, I found what I was looking for: warmth, connection, and purpose.

Work is still rocky, and I don’t know what the year has in store for me — but at least I found a place safe enough to call home.

Exactly the kind of stability I was looking for.

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