Your shoes are too small. But you might not realize that, since your feet have contorted to fit in them for so long that you don't realize your feet aren't their natural shape any more.
I bought a pair of shoes online from a barefoot brand in Germany, and since an online reviewer had commented that they run large, I bought the size I thought was most likely to fit, and the size down.
I tried them both on. The smaller size felt better. It hugged my foot, it felt comforting, I could feel all the walls of the shoe and there was something soothing about it. The larger pair felt unfamiliar, awkward, confusing. Where was it? I couldn't feel it. I was worried the larger pair would get unsightly creases.
But I knew from past experience that I'd likely be happier with the larger pair.
A gentle squeeze of the foot feels comforting at first, but it very quickly becomes suffocating. Knowing where the edges are at all times makes it easier to relax. When you can put your hands on the walls at all times, you never have to worry about where they are. But this also means there's no room for creativity.
I returned the smaller pair. I could probably even size up again.
Your life is too small. But you might not realize that, since you've contorted to fit into it for so long that you don't realize you aren't your natural shape any more.