The Sweet Suffocation of Commitment

How it turns out to be surprisingly soothing.

I have always had a loveโ€“hate relationship with commitment. For a long time, I saw it mainly as an obligation, something that restricted my freedom and rarely brought anything good. Whenever something felt like it had to be done or was imposed on me, a small inner rebel would immediately surface. It felt limiting.

And yet, there was another side to it.

In a split second, I could go all in. With laser focus and fierce loyalty, I could give everything. That was the โ€˜loveโ€™ side of the equation. However, something kept nagging at me. Giving commitment to something or someone felt constricting.

Over the years I discovered something unexpected: that very โ€˜limitationโ€™ turned out to be one of the most powerful forces for expansion. How? Iโ€™d like to share it here. 

After the โ€˜regimeโ€™ ;) of being a corporate lawyer (where I learned a lot and I wouldnโ€™t have missed it for the world), I was done with obligations and structure. On the beautiful island of Ibiza, I longed to experience freedom: fewer rules, little rhythm, letting everything unfold naturally. I believed that would lead to the most magical experiences.

And for a while, it did.

But soon I noticed something was missing: direction. How do you build a business purely from flow? It doesnโ€™t work. Flow needs a foundation. It needs direction. And what I discovered about myself is this: I need a goal - something to grow toward - in order to feel fulfilled. 

The leading Dutch dictionary, Van Dale, defines commitment as:

involvement; dedication; obligation.

What I learned is that commitment actually gives me direction, and with that: freedom. The freedom to choose it again every single day. The dictionary doesnโ€™t just translate commitment as obligation or binding; it also means involvement. And involvement feels like a conscious choice.

Making a choice is neurologically powerful.

Commitment means choosing and not remaining in limbo. Yes, when you choose one thing, something else falls away. But the most draining thing you can do for your business or personal growth is not choosing. A split mind drains energy and turns laser focus into a dim light. When you donโ€™t choose, your mind keeps wandering, divided: Which path should I take?

Doubt consumes cognitive energy. The brain craves clarity. When you make a decision, something important happens neurologically:

  • The prefrontal cortex makes a selection.

  • Alternatives are neurologically suppressed.

  • Internal conflict activity decreases.

As a result, you often feel more calm and clear. 

It reminds me of the poem The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. A traveler stands in an autumn forest facing a fork in the road. He cannot take both paths and must choose. At first glance, the poem seems to be about a brave, decisive choice. But on closer inspection, its meaning becomes clear only in hindsight. We assign meaning to our decisions afterward.

At the moment of choosing (at the moment of committing), there is no 100% guarantee. Sometimes you must decide with limited information. Maturity is not clinging endlessly to freedom; it is standing for the road you choose.

Your brain supports you in this. After a decision:

  • The reward system becomes more active.

  • Dopamine comes into play.

  • Your brain starts looking for confirmation of your choice.

  • You begin noticing opportunities aligned with your commitment.

Commitment closes doors and, by doing so, it allows the nervous system to relax. However, I do notice that my inner rebel reappears here. Doesnโ€™t pure focus on commitment become rigid?

In my view, personal growth means being able to hold a paradox and still choose. You feel the doubt and choose anyway. You leave room for nuance, but you move. Sometimes you only know afterward whether it was the โ€˜rightโ€™ decision. You choose with the awareness and knowledge you have at that specific moment. And perhaps, by doing so consciously, you are already doing it right.

Not from rigidity. Not from fear of uncertainty. But from flexible determination.

Trusting life is beautiful. But it is equally important to take a step yourself.

Ibiza taught me to savor the fruits of commitment: to choose, to move with intention, to stay focused, and yet keep sight of the larger view. Flexible enough to change directions should the chosen road end.

Commitment: not suffocation, but focused breathing.

Which internal conflict are you ending today?

From Ibiza, with commitment by choice,

Janneke Bolle

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