Room One had nine questions — questions about identity, about who you are beneath the roles and the noise. Room Two has five. They're different in character. They're less about looking inward and more about looking forward.
You don't need to answer them now. In fact, please don't try. These questions are not a quiz. They are a compass — a set of directions this room will gently turn you toward as you move through the exercises, the writing, and the thinking ahead.
Read them slowly. Notice which ones make you feel something. The ones that make your chest tighten, or your mind go blank, or your eyes sting — those are probably the ones that matter most right now.
You're not behind on any of these. You're not supposed to have figured them out already. The whole point of this room is that you haven't — and that's okay.
1
What do I actually want?
Not what you should want. Not what would make your parents proud, your ex jealous, your children comfortable. Not the safe answer. Not the impressive answer.
What do you want?
This is the question most women have been trained to skip. We learn to ask what others need, what the situation requires, what's realistic, what's selfless. We learn to want what we're supposed to want. And then one day we wake up and realise we have no idea what we actually desire — because we stopped asking decades ago.
This room will help you hear the answer. It might come as a whisper. It might come as a roar. Either way, it's yours.
Sit with this
If no one would judge you, be disappointed in you, or need you to be different — what would you want your life to look like in three years?
2
Where is my energy actually going?
Your energy is finite. It's the most honest currency you have — more honest than money, more honest than time. Money can be inherited. Time can be wasted without noticing. But energy? You feel it. You know when it's flowing and when it's draining.
Before you can choose a direction, you need to see where your life force is currently being spent. How much goes to obligations that no longer serve you? How much goes to people-pleasing, performing, keeping up appearances? How much goes to things that actually light you up?
Most women who arrive in this room discover a startling imbalance. That discovery isn't failure — it's the beginning of a different kind of choice.
Sit with this
In an average week, what percentage of your energy goes to things that drain you versus things that fuel you? Don't calculate — feel the answer.
3
What makes me feel alive?
Not productive. Not useful. Not needed. Alive.
There's a difference between filling your days and inhabiting your life. You can be busy from morning to night and still feel hollow. You can also spend twenty minutes doing something quiet and feel more yourself than you have in years.
Purpose research calls this "flow" — those moments when time disappears because you're so absorbed in what you're doing that you forget to check the clock. In Japan, they'd call it one thread of your ikigai. In plain language, it's the stuff that makes you think: yes, this.
You may have forgotten what that feels like. This room will help you remember.
Sit with this
When was the last time you lost track of time because you were genuinely absorbed in something? What were you doing? If you can't remember — that's information too.
4
What am I afraid of?
This is the question nobody wants to answer. But it's the one that holds the most power — because whatever you're afraid of is almost certainly shaping your choices right now, whether you see it or not.
Fear of failure. Fear of being seen. Fear of success and the exposure that comes with it. Fear of choosing wrong. Fear of being selfish. Fear of discovering that you don't actually have a purpose and the emptiness is permanent.
Most of these fears are not predictions. They're protections — old patterns that once kept you safe but are now keeping you small. The research on honest goal-setting shows something counterintuitive: naming your obstacles doesn't discourage you — it makes you more likely to succeed. When you can see the wall, you can plan the door.
Sit with this
Complete this sentence honestly: "The real reason I haven't pursued what I want is because I'm afraid that…"
5
What would I do if no one was watching?
This is the question that separates purpose from performance.
So much of what we call ambition is actually audience management — building a life that looks right from the outside. Purpose has no audience. Purpose is what you'd do in a room by yourself on a Tuesday afternoon with nothing to prove.
When you strip away the approval-seeking, the comparison, the need to justify your choices to people who didn't ask — what's left? That's the signal. That's the thing worth following.
It might be small. It might be strange. It might not look like anyone else's version of a meaningful life. That's exactly why it's yours.
Sit with this
If you could spend the next year doing anything — with no need to explain, justify, or make money from it — what would you choose? The first answer that comes to mind is usually the truest.
You don't need to have answers. You just need to let the questions land.
As you move through this room — through The Compass, The Audit, The Dream, The Sketch, The Practice — these five questions will resurface. Not because you're being tested, but because the exercises are designed to help you hear what you already know but haven't yet had the space to say.
Purpose doesn't arrive when you're ready. It arrives when you're willing to listen. And listening starts with the right questions.