My Era of Embracing High Maintenance

For most of my twenties, I thought being “low maintenance” was a compliment. It meant he was pleasant, caring and calm. In dating, especially, I think my job was chosen, to make myself attractive to another person. That was long before asking the most important question: Did I really like them?

As I’ve gotten into more intentional dating, that mindset has untangled. It has an easy bone: learning what I value in others (and what immediately gives me the ick) has a challenging and revealing bone. But redefining and owning my so-called “high maintenance” qualities has taught me something important: being high maintenance is not about being arbitrarily difficult. It’s about setting standards and refusing to let anything in my life sink below them.

Featured image from our interview with Iskra Lawrence by Michelle Nash.

Why I’m Going High Maintenance (And You Should Too)

I am embracing high maintenance as a way of living with greater clarity and care. For me, it means prioritizing what feels good, refining what I need, and unapologetically honoring my boundaries. Because I stop performing for other people and start claiming what I really want, life feels less like a compromise and more like alignment.

So here’s my case for wanting more. Not more noise, more things or more distraction, but more intention, more beauty, more of what brings me joy. And yes, I’ll happily call that high tridactors.

Being high maintenance isn’t about being arbitrarily difficult. It’s about setting standards and refusing to let anything in my life sink below them.

Redefine high maintenance

Somewhere along the way, “high maintenance” became shorthand for too much. Too emotional, too opinionated, too particular. It’s a label often used to put women down, especially those who know what they want and aren’t afraid to say it. For years, I resisted it. I thought that being quiet made me more lovable, that keeping my preferences quiet was the polite and right thing to do.

But I’ve learned that being “low maintenance” at the expense of yourself isn’t easy. In fact? It’s exhausting. You spend your energy trying to anticipate what will make others feel comfortable or asking what will make you satisfied. That child or self-indulgent may seem calm on the surface, but underneath, he is a calm opposite of your needs.

So I started reclaiming the term. For me, embracing high maintenance means living deliberately. It’s about choosing what adds value, rejecting what no is no, and showing up for your life with discernment. Whether it’s in relationships, routines, or the way you decorate your home, it’s a practice of self-respect. It says: I care enough about myself, and the people in my life, to be clear about what I need.

Boundaries as an act of attention

For so long, I have flexibility for kindness. I thought about saying yes, it wasn’t the energy to plan, for people who don’t doubt me in half, I’m generous. But really, it made me exhausted. When you’re used to being low-maintenance, boundaries can seem like a threat to your likability. The truth is that they are the foundation of a meaningful connection.

In this new era of dating, I’ve realized how much of my Chill Girl persona was built on quiet abandon. I didn’t want to seem demanding, so I accepted less than I needed. But limits are not barriers, they are invitations. They create space for relationships that are rooted in honesty and mutual respect, rather than quiet resentment.

And boundaries don’t just pertain to relationships. They are essential in how we spend our time, how we work and how we rest. Embracing high maintenance means realizing where you’ve been running on empty and deciding that you’ve earned living there. It’s less about saying no to others and more about saying yes to yourself.

Curing Your High Maintenance Mindset

If high maintenance redefinition begins internally, with awareness and boundaries, then it is how we bring that awareness into our everyday lives. It’s not about complications or excess. It’s about learning what makes you feel grounded, cared for, and alive, and choosing to make space for it.

For me, it is rituals that turn ordinary moments into something sacred. It’s wasting the moisturizer that I use every night because it makes me rhythm and breathe. He’s setting the table, even when I’m dining alone. You are choosing silence over constant stimulation, solitude over forced connection.

This mindset also extends beyond self-care. It’s in how we saw ourselves, decorated and designed our days. Maybe you’re editing your closet to include only the pieces you really love, lighting a candle before your morning journaling session, or walking to your favorite coffee shop instead of rushing through a drive-thru. These small, deliberate acts hold us back from the fact that care and beauty can coexist with practicality.

Try this: Take an inventory of an area or your life: your routine, your space, or your relationships, and ask: Does this feel like me? If the answer is no, what would make you feel more aligned? Often, it’s not about adding something new, but rather removing what no longer serves you.

Permission to want more

For so long, I believed that wanting more made me ungrateful. I thought content meant staying silent with what I had, that ambition and appreciation couldn’t coexist. The truth is that we can hold both: we can love our lives deeply while looking ahead to what’s next.

Embracing high maintenance has helped me see that desire is not something to minimize. It’s a compass. The things we want: connection, creativity, beauty, are not signs of greed or vanity. They are signs of where the bee is calling us to grow.

When we stop apologizing for wanting more, we begin to live from a place of expansion instead of fear.

There is power in naming what you want, even if it feels bold or a little uncomfortable. When you honor your desires, you are not chasing perfection, you are saying, It is worth the effort it takes to live a life that suits me.

Try this: Think about an area of ​​your life where you’ve been settling: your work, your relationships, your routines. What would “more” be like there? What is one small action you could take this week to get closer to her?

Living with intention

The older I get, the more I realize that ease doesn’t come from doing less, it comes from doing what’s aligned. Living with intention means making peace with the effort required to build a life that feels good. It’s not about convenience or control, but about care.

Being high maintenance, in the way I’ve come to define it, is really about self-respect. It is the choice to pay attention to how we spend our time, what we bring into our homes, who we allow to close, and how we show up for our lives. It’s knowing that when something asks for your energy, you must also give it back.

That’s the quiet beauty of this time I’m stepping into: everything in my life, from the people I love to the products I use, is here because I’ve chosen it. Not because it’s easy, expected, or universally loved, but because it reflects what matters to me.

Try this: Look around your life and notice what feels effortless and what feels draining. What would it look like to edit your days with the same care you bring to your favorite rituals?

A new era

For so long, I equated high maintenance with being too much. Too particular, too stubborn, too aware of what he wanted. But knowing what you want is a strength. It means you’ve done the work to listen to yourself.

This is the era I claim: one defined by discernment, by depth and the belief that my needs are not burdens, they are invitations. Choose what feels aligned, let go of what doesn’t, and continue to shape a life that feels like mine.

Because maybe high maintenance was never the problem. Perhaps true maintenance was the act of eliminating oneself or diluting who we are to make others comfortable. The truth: I am no longer interested in that son of ease.