Who stole my Spotify algorithm?
When everyone else’s soundtrack is drowning out your own.
You open Spotify.
There it is—your “Discover Weekly” playlist. Carefully curated. Supposedly tailored to you. And yet…
💬 Metal riffs that feel like the onset of a panic attack
💬 Rap throwbacks you’ve heard a hundred times… from behind your teenager’s closed door
💬 That gentle yoga playlist I used to play while folding the washing
And I just stared at it thinking… who is this for?
Because it’s not for me.
It’s not really about the music
I don’t even dislike all of it. Some of it is great. But lately, none of it feels like mine.
The playlists playing in my house, in the car, in my head—they’ve been shaped by everyone else’s moods, routines, preferences. Husband’s punk. Son’s hip hop. Auto playlists curated to stick on in the background.
Somewhere along the line, I stopped choosing. And the algorithm? It just kept repeating what it thought I wanted.
The background noise started to feel like me
But it wasn’t just Spotify. I started noticing it everywhere:
The shows I said yes to watching, even though I wasn’t really into them
The food in the fridge I bought out of habit – just add last week’s shopping cart to the order and we’re done – on to the next task
The way my calendar filled up with other people’s needs
So, when a good friend from years ago—the one who knows I love music—asked, “So what are you into these days?” I literally froze.
Because I realised: I don’t actually know. Bit by bit, I stopped asking myself: “What do I want?”
And when you stop asking those questions, your own rhythm gets harder to hear.
It doesn’t mean you’ve lost yourself
I haven’t. And neither have you.
But I think we can go a bit quiet under the noise. Especially when we’ve spent years making space for everyone else. Being dependable. Keeping things moving. Playing peacekeeper, planner, parent, partner, professional… you name it.
The thing is, algorithms learn from repetition. And if you’ve been on autopilot long enough, your life starts serving you the same old tracks. Even if they don’t fit anymore.
You don’t need to burn it all down
This isn’t about a dramatic reinvention. It’s about noticing—and gently nudging.
What happens if you:
Play a song that makes you feel something—even if it’s a little messy
Say no to one thing this week that doesn’t feel like you
Try something without asking if it’s “productive”
Ask: What have I stopped choosing, and why?
These aren’t grand gestures. But they’re honest ones. And they matter. That’s how RESET begins—one tiny reconnection at a time.
Want a little nudge?
If this hit a nerve, you might like the Midlife Clarity Map I created.
It’s not a fix or a five-step plan. Just a gentle tool to help you press pause and listen in. To reconnect with the version of you who hasn’t disappeared, just gone a little quiet.
You’re not stuck. You’re just due a few new tracks.