#8 The Surprising Allure of Staying Stuck
Most of us start the year with bold visions.
We’re going to become more strategic. We’re going to delegate more effectively. We’re going to finally prioritize well-being.
And then, somewhere around now, those visions start quietly fading into the background of the daily grind.
Why?
For a long time, I thought it was lack of discipline. Or lack of time. Or maybe just lack of willpower.
But it’s not that.
On some level, staying stuck works for us.
The Biology of Stuck
Here’s something I learned that changed how I think about change:
Your brain operates on a strict energy budget. It prefers well‑worn neural pathways because they’re metabolically cheap to run, even if they’re not effective for the leader you want to be. That old habit you’re trying to break? Your brain sees it as efficient, not problematic.
Change requires what I call the Double Energy Tax: first, energy to interrupt the old automatic response; second, energy to build the new pathway.
We stay stuck because we’re wired to avoid this tax.
When you feel exhausted by attempted change, you’re not failing.
You’re paying the metabolic cost of rewiring.
And your brain is screaming at you to stop spending energy it doesn’t want to spend—so it quietly nudges you back to what’s familiar.
The Psychology of Stuck
But there’s another reason we resist change—a more uncomfortable one.
As long as your goal remains a “someday” fantasy, it stays perfect.
The fantasy of being a calm, strategic leader is flawless.
You handle crises with grace. You have time for deep thinking. It feels good to imagine.
The reality of becoming that leader? Messy. Uncomfortable. Full of potential frustration and failure.
It requires saying no to people who will be disappointed.
Sitting in silence when you want to fill it.
Delegating poorly ten times before you get it right.
The gap between who you are and who you want to be can feel paralyzing. The finish line looks so impressive that the first step feels almost trivial by comparison.
So, we protect the fantasy.
We protect the idea of our potential rather than risk the reality of not reaching it.
It’s easier to say, “I could do it if I just had the time,” than to test that belief in real conditions.
That excuse protects your ego.
It also limits your growth.
The System Problem
Finally, we stay stuck because we confuse outcomes with systems.
We fall in love with the destination—the impact, the identity, the kind of leader we want to be—without redesigning the daily structures and habits that would actually produce it.
So we keep the same calendars.
The same meeting patterns.
The same decision rules.
The same reflexes.
The same defaults.
And we expect different results.
This creates a quiet contradiction:
We want to change (as leaders), but we protect the systems that make that change nearly impossible.
Not because we’re irrational.
Because systems feel safe.
They’re familiar. Predictable. Efficient. Identity-preserving.
They let us function without friction—even when we know they’re not serving us.
So we tell ourselves stories:
“When things slow down.”
“After this quarter.”
“When I have more capacity.”
“When the team is stronger.”
“When the pressure eases.”
But the system never changes.
And without a system change, behavior change is unsustainable.
That’s the trap:
You can’t outgrow a system you keep running.
You can’t evolve inside a structure designed to preserve the old version of you.
Aspirations create goals.
Systems create results.
Until the system changes, the stuckness isn’t a personal failure.
It’s structural.
What Actually Works
Getting unstuck is a process.
Here are two shifts to get started.
First: Pay the tax differently
Stop relying on willpower alone.
When you feel an old habit firing—the urge to interrupt someone, to check email mid-task, to say yes when you mean no—pause.
Take (at least) two conscious breaths.
Name the urge (‘I want to jump in here’).
Then choose your response.
You’re not fixing everything. You’re stepping off the habit wheel long enough to restore judgment and create space for choice.
That’s where change lives.
Every time you do this, you’re paying the Double Energy Tax in smaller, more manageable installments instead of all at once.
Second: Stop obsessing over the finish line
The paralysis comes from the gap between here and perfect.
So stop aiming for perfect.
Start experimenting and collecting data.
Two principles help:
1) Make it smaller.
Don’t overhaul your leadership this quarter. Start absurdly small.
· Not: “I’m going to empower my team completely.”
· Try: “I’m going to stay silent for the first five minutes of one meeting.”
Start small. Sustain it. Build on it.
2) Reframe failure as information.
When you try something new and it doesn’t go as well as you hoped, that isn’t failure—it’s data about what needs adjustment next time.
Treat your experiments as “Leadership A/B tests,” not pass/fail exams.
The fantasy of perfection keeps you stuck.
The reality of messy progress moves you forward.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Here’s what makes this difficult to hear:
The gap between where you are and where you want to be is real.
And bridging it requires risk.
You can stay where it’s safe.
Keep your potential pristine and untested.
Preserve the efficient neural pathways.
Protect the story that you could change if circumstances were different.
Or you can take one small, clumsy, imperfect step.
One protects your ego.
The other changes your leadership.
Until leaders are willing to redesign the systems that once made them successful, staying stuck will continue to feel safer than changing.
A First Step
This week, choose one small, clumsy, imperfect step—and notice what it teaches you about your current system.
P.S. If you enjoyed this read, consider sharing it with someone who’d benefit.
P.S.S. Are you working on redesigning your leadership system? Reply and let me know what you're tackling—I read and respond to every message.