Why Is It So Hard to Do What You Know Is Right for You?

There comes a point when you already know the answer.

You may not want to admit it yet. You may convince yourself you don’t know what to do yet. You may tell yourself you need more time, more clarity, more information, or one more sign.

But deep down, you know.

The hard part is not always figuring out what to do.

The hard part is doing what you know is right for you, especially when it might disappoint someone else.

That was the realization I had this week.

I made two difficult business decisions. They were decisions I probably should have made sooner, but I kept pushing them off. I told myself I would give it another month. Then another quarter. Then just a little more time.

And before I knew it, two and a half years had gone by.

The truth was, I was continuing to spend money on things that were not giving me the return I needed. As a businesswoman, I knew the answer. I knew what a smart decision looked like.

But as a person, I was uncomfortable.

I had been loyal. I did not want to disappoint anyone. I did not want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I did not want to have the awkward conversation.

So I stayed longer than I should have.

And I wonder if you have done the same thing.

Maybe not in business. Maybe for you it is a volunteer role, a friendship, a committee, a job, a project, a routine, or even a version of yourself you have outgrown.

Maybe you are telling yourself you are stuck because you do not know what to do.

But maybe you are not stuck because you lack clarity.

Maybe you are stuck because acting on that clarity feels uncomfortable.

One of the sneakiest things about staying in something that no longer fits is that it does not always look dramatic from the outside.

That is what makes it so easy to justify.

For me, I have been involved with a wonderful women’s networking organization off and on for about fifteen years. It has a beautiful mission. There is a nonprofit arm, a business networking piece, and a connection to supporting a local domestic violence charity.

For the past five or six years, I have been the treasurer of my local chapter.

And honestly, the role itself is not overwhelming. It is not hours and hours of work. It is not some huge burden.

That is the story I kept telling myself.

“It is not that much.”

“It only takes a little time.”

“It is a good organization.”

“I have been doing it for so long.”

“They need me.”

And all of that may be true.

But here is the part I had to be honest about.

Even small commitments take up space.

They take up mental space. Emotional space. Calendar space. Decision making space. Energy.

Sometimes the cost is not the actual time something takes.

Sometimes the cost is the fact that it keeps living in your head.

You keep thinking about it. You keep reminding yourself to do it. You keep feeling responsible for it. You keep carrying it as one more thing on your already full plate.

And when life or business or your next chapter is asking you to focus, even one more small thing can feel like too much.

That does not mean the organization is bad.

It does not mean the people are bad.

It does not mean you are ungrateful.

It means you are allowed to ask, “Does this still fit where I am right now?”

I used to say yes all the time when I really wanted to say no.

Not because I was trying to be dishonest.

Because I did not want to disappoint anyone.

I was honored to be asked. I wanted to be helpful. I wanted to be seen as dependable. I wanted people to know they could count on me.

And those are not bad things.

But there is a difference between honoring a commitment and staying because you are afraid of someone else’s reaction.

Sometimes we say yes because we are afraid people will think we are selfish.

Sometimes we stay because we have built part of our identity around the role.

“I am the treasurer.”

“I am the dependable one.”

“I am the person who always shows up.”

“I am the one who never quits.”

Sometimes we stay because of fear of missing out.

What if something great happens after I leave?

What if everyone else grows from this and I am no longer part of it?

What if I lose my place?

And sometimes we stay simply because it is familiar.

Even when something is not right anymore, familiarity can feel safer than change.

But comfort is not always a sign that something is right.

Sometimes comfort is just a sign that you have done it for a long time.

This is the sentence I keep coming back to:

Every yes you keep out of obligation is a no to something that might actually move your life forward.

That one gets me.

Because we tend to think of saying yes as generous, kind, helpful, and responsible.

And sometimes it is.

But every yes uses something.

Your time.

Your energy.

Your focus.

Your emotional bandwidth.

Your creativity.

Your capacity.

So when you say yes to something that no longer fits, you may also be saying no to the things that actually need your attention right now.That does not mean every old commitment needs to be dropped.

It means your yes should be honest.

Not automatic.

Not guilt driven.

Not based on who you used to be.

Honest.

Here is the funny part.

At the same time I have been afraid to leave something that no longer fits, I have also been hesitant to start something that could help me.

I have been thinking about joining Toastmasters.

As a speaker, I know it would probably be good for me. Speaking is like anything else. You get better by practicing. You get better by getting feedback. You get better by putting yourself in situations where you have to stretch.

So why am I hesitating?

Because it is unfamiliar.

Because it is another thing on my calendar.

Because growth is uncomfortable.

And there it is again.

Sometimes we avoid leaving because it is uncomfortable.

Sometimes we avoid starting because it is uncomfortable.

Either way, discomfort can become the thing making the decision for us.

And I do not want discomfort making my decisions.

I want to be honest enough to ask whether something is aligned with where I am going.

When you are facing a decision and you are not sure whether to stay, leave, start, stop, continue, or change direction, ask yourself these three questions.

This question removes history.

It removes guilt.

It removes the “but I have always done this” excuse.

It asks you to look at your current life, current capacity, current goals, and current season.

Would you choose this now?

Not five years ago.

Not when you were in a different chapter.

Now.

This question requires honesty.

And sometimes the answer is uncomfortable.

You may realize you are not staying because it feels aligned.

You are staying because leaving feels awkward.

You are staying because you do not want to create stress for someone else.

You are staying because you do not want to be judged.

But other people’s disappointment cannot be the only reason you keep giving away your time and energy.

Do not only look at the obvious cost.

Look at the hidden cost.

Is it costing you time?

Energy?

Focus?

Peace?

Confidence?

Creativity?

Opportunities?

Space to grow?

Sometimes the cost of staying is not loud.

Sometimes it is a quiet drain.

But a quiet drain is still a drain.

We love to say we need clarity.

And sometimes we do.

But sometimes clarity is not the problem.

Sometimes we already know.

We know the commitment no longer fits.

We know the money is not being spent wisely.

We know the relationship feels one sided.

We know the role has run its course.

We know the opportunity could help us grow.

We know the next step.

We just do not want to deal with the discomfort of taking it.

That does not make us weak.

It makes us human.

But it also gives us a choice.

We can keep spinning in our heads.

Or we can take one honest step.

You do not have to change your whole life today.

You do not have to make every decision immediately.

But you can take one step.

You can write the email.

You can draft the message.

You can give yourself a decision deadline.

You can say, “Let me think about it,” instead of automatically saying yes.

You can talk it through with someone you trust.

You can admit the truth out loud.

Sometimes saying it out loud is what finally makes things clear.

That is what happened for me. As I talked through this decision, I realized I was not confused. I was afraid of the discomfort.

And once I admitted that, I knew what I needed to do.

Leaving something does not always mean you are quitting.

It does not mean you are selfish.

It does not mean you are ungrateful.

It does not mean the thing was wrong or bad or a waste.

Sometimes it simply means it was right for one season, but not for this one.

That is allowed.

You are allowed to change.

You are allowed to outgrow commitments.

You are allowed to protect your capacity.

You are allowed to make room for what matters now.

And sometimes moving forward is not about adding more.

Sometimes moving forward is about having the courage to let something go.

You may not need more clarity.

You may need the courage to act on the clarity you already have.

So here is the question I will leave you with:

What are you still saying yes to that no longer fits the life you are trying to create?

And what would become possible if you finally gave yourself permission to let it go?

-Debbie Weiss