Why I Couldn’t Think My Way Out

A few weeks ago, I was a mess.

On the surface, I (and everything) looked fine. Busy, actually. Full calendar + fun plans. My to-do lists were multiplying. If you walked into my office, you would have seen someone being ‘very productive’.

What wasn’t entirely obvious was the way I was shuffling the same pile of things around, rewriting the same notes, bouncing from one idea to the next. Starting things. Stopping things. Making lists about the lists. And then more lists.

Here’s what was really happening.

I was confused. Deeply, thoroughly confused about what to do next. And because I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t actually move. So I just looked busy instead. Business mimicking movement, camouflaging total stuckness.

I got quieter in my online communities. The ones where I normally celebrate wins, contribute, and support other people. I didn’t raise my hand. I didn’t share updates. I didn’t tell anyone what I was grappling with. Not even my bestie, who’s also a coach. Not the people and family who know me best. Nobody.

Because I was a coach, I did the thing we all sometimes do, which is to tell myself ‘I should know better’. I thought I should just be able to get on with it, move through this confused state, and figure it all out on my own. I’ve always been someone who gets things done. I make a list, I check it off, I move forward. So why couldn’t I just do that now?

The answer is: I couldn’t. 

And the shame about that was almost worse than the confusion itself.

After two weeks of this, I was completely and utterly sick of myself. Gone was my normally gentle and compassionate inner guide. Instead, I was telling myself I was utterly failing, losing valuable time, and precious opportunities.

Finally realizing that I was getting nowhere fast on my own, I spontaneously decided to raise my hand in a group coaching session and told my coach what was happening.

I was so nervous. In group settings, I get super self-conscious. It takes more courage for me to be vulnerable in front of others. But I was also desperate enough not to care. I hid my self-view on my Zoom screen and started talking.

I fumbled for words because I couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening in my own brain. I was confused about the confusion. And as I was trying to explain it, I worried I was just making it worse, being even more confusing, not making sense.

And then my coach said something simple: “I understand. I see what’s going on here.”

That was it. Not a fancy diagnosis with a follow-up tool. Not any coaching language. Just a human being, from the outside, seeing me clearly.

I felt relief flood through my whole body. I felt validated. I felt like a solution was actually possible. And I remembered something important: this stuckness I was in, it was temporary. I have evidence all over my life that I can make decisions. I can get things done. This confused, stuck version of me wasn’t who I am. It was just where I was right now.

And then something shifted in me.

An opening. A softness. I went from misunderstanding myself to being genuinely curious about what she was seeing. I leaned in. I listened. Together, we made sense of my self-created pattern. Why I freeze up when I don’t know what to do. Why the confusion becomes this pair of glasses I see everything through. Why I spin and question and waste my own time and then judge myself for doing it.

She also reminded me of something I’d forgotten: I know how to move my body to shift my energy. I know how to take myself for a walk and let my mind settle. I know what helps me. I just forgot, temporarily, that I knew.

But the biggest thing wasn’t the strategy. It was being seen and being understood. Being witnessed by another person who believed in me, even when I couldn’t believe in myself.

That’s when I remembered: I’m going to be okay. This is temporary. I don’t have to do this alone.

If you’re reading this and nodding along because you recognize yourself in this story, you don’t have to do it alone either.

Maybe you’re not hiding the same way I was. But maybe you’re carrying something you haven’t told anyone about. Perhaps you’re telling yourself you should figure it out on your own. Or you’re judging yourself for being stuck when you’re usually someone who gets things done. Maybe you’re looking at all the things you want to do and quietly believing you won’t actually do them because this is just how you are.

I know that voice. I lived in it for a few weeks recently, and it was painful.

Here’s what that moment helped me remember. 

We humans (even the ones who are coaches) sometimes need another human to see us clearly so we can see ourselves again.

That’s what a real coaching partnership is. It’s not someone telling you what to do. It’s someone holding space while you find your own answers. It’s being witnessed. It’s being believed in. It’s accessing the truth underneath the confusion.

I deserved that support.

And you deserve that too. 

To feel what I felt when my coach said, “I see you.” You deserve to come out of hiding, stop wasting your time, and actually move toward the big, audacious things you want.

And the way that happens is in real conversation, human to human.

If any part of this story felt familiar, I'd love to talk. Book a connection call with me. Let me see what's really going on. Because I promise you: it's temporary, it's workable, and you don't have to figure it out alone.

With immense appreciation and gratitude.