We've been taught to plan our lives around achievements. Get the degree. Get the job. Get the house. Get the relationship. Hit the number. Reach the milestone. And then — then — you'll feel the way you want to feel.
It almost never works. You reach the milestone and the feeling doesn't arrive. Or it arrives for an afternoon and then vanishes. And you set another goal, chasing the same feeling you thought the last one would deliver.
This exercise flips that entirely. Instead of starting with what you want to have or do, you start with how you want to feel. You identify three to five core desired feelings — the emotional states that, if they were present in your daily life, would mean you were living in alignment. Then you use those feelings as a compass for every decision.
This idea comes from Danielle LaPorte's Desire Map work, and it resonated with hundreds of thousands of women for a reason: it cuts through the noise. After disruption — when the life plan has collapsed and the achievements have lost their meaning — feelings are the only honest navigation system you have left. Your Body Compass already knows this. Your Purpose Sketch captured a version of it in the "How I Want to Feel" section. This exercise takes that insight and gives it teeth.
Your core desired feelings are not goals. They are the criteria by which you evaluate everything — the job, the relationship, the Tuesday afternoon, the way you spend the next hour. If it doesn't move you toward your feelings, it's not aligned. And if it does, it doesn't matter whether anyone else understands why.
Start by writing down every feeling word that appeals to you. Not the feelings you think you should want. The ones your body responds to when you read them. Scan the cloud below and notice which words make something shift in your chest — a softening, an opening, a quiet yes.
spacious
connected
alive
free
steady
radiant
grounded
wild
sovereign
luminous
peaceful
fierce
nourished
powerful
tender
expansive
creative
anchored
abundant
whole
magnetic
brave
joyful
unburdened
sacred
warm
energised
clear
soft
home
open
vital
quiet
rooted
delighted
flowing
held
awake
dignified
unafraid
chosen
enough
Write down every word that resonates — aim for fifteen to twenty. Don't filter yet. Include words that aren't in the cloud. Include words you'd be embarrassed to say out loud. The best core desired feelings are often the ones that feel too vulnerable to name — chosen, enough, held, home.
Feelings, not states
Watch for words that are actually goals disguised as feelings. "Successful" is an achievement, not a feeling — but what does success feel like? Maybe it feels like spacious. Or sovereign. Or energised. "Thin" is a body state — but the feeling underneath it might be free or powerful or unashamed. Keep digging until you reach the actual feeling under the surface word.
Now you narrow. From fifteen to twenty words down to three to five. These are your core desired feelings — the ones that matter most, that everything else folds into.
Group your words. You'll find that many of them are siblings — different shades of the same essential feeling. "Spacious," "unburdened," and "free" might all be pointing to the same core. "Grounded," "anchored," and "rooted" might be one feeling with three names. Find the clusters. Then choose the one word from each cluster that makes your body respond most strongly.
spacious
unburdened
free
open
flowing
expansive
grounded
steady
anchored
rooted
held
alive
energised
vital
radiant
awake
creative
wild
delighted
joyful
↓
spacious
free
grounded
held
alive
radiant
creative
↓
spacious
grounded
alive
creative
The example above shows twenty words distilled to four. The woman chose spacious over "free" because spacious felt more specific to her body — she could physically feel what spacious meant. She chose grounded over "held" because grounded felt like something she could create for herself, while "held" required someone else. Those distinctions matter. Your core desired feelings need to be ones you can generate from within.
The body compass test
For each candidate word, close your eyes and say it slowly. Then notice your body. Does it soften? Does your breathing deepen? Does your chest open? If a word creates a physical response, it's core. If it sounds right but your body stays neutral, it's probably a "should" — a feeling you think you're supposed to want rather than one you actually crave.
They Will Change — And That's the Point
Your core desired feelings are not permanent. They're a sketch — honest, current, drawn in pencil. The woman who just came through divorce might crave grounded and safe above all else. Three years later, those needs met, she might find herself reaching for wild and bold.
Revisit your core desired feelings every three to six months. Notice which ones still make your body respond and which ones have been quietly fulfilled — absorbed into the foundation of your life so completely that you no longer need to name them. Then let new feelings surface. The ones you need next.
This isn't indecision. It's growth. A woman who changes her core desired feelings is a woman who is evolving. And a system that evolves with you is the only kind worth building your life around.
Key sources: LaPorte (2014) on core desired feelings and the Desire Map methodology; Fredrickson (2001) broaden-and-build theory of positive emotions; Emmons (1986, 2003) on personal strivings and wellbeing; Sheldon & Elliot (1999) on self-concordant goals and intrinsic motivation; Ryan & Deci (2000) on self-determination theory and emotional needs.
You don't need to know what to do. You need to know how you want to feel. The doing will follow — because when you're clear about the feeling, the choices become obvious.
You now have four documents from The Sketch: a Purpose Sketch showing what you know, Life Chapters showing where you've been, a letter from the woman you're becoming, and core desired feelings that filter every decision you make.
Each one captures a different dimension of your truth. Together, they form the most complete self-portrait you've ever held. Not a finished painting. A sketch. Drawn by you, revisable by you, owned entirely by you.