You, in two halves.

You say you want more. More influence, more meaningful work, more space to think and shape something that actually makes a difference in this world.

But then – the ‘reasons why it won’t happen’ kick in.

My role isn’t set up for that. The systems don’t work that way. The culture is what it is, and it won’t change. 

And part of you is honestly not sure you really want the cost of stepping up or standing on a bigger stage.

So you find yourself holding two positions at once. One part of you is reaching towards something bigger, more exciting, more aligned with how you want to work. The other part is calmly, rationally explaining why that version of things is unlikely, impractical or simply not available right now.

It doesn’t feel like self-sabotage. It feels like realism. That’s exactly what makes it so effective at keeping you where you are.

And that’s where it becomes difficult to see.

Because it’s not catastrophic – yet.  But that tension lingers quietly, nudging you from time to time, humming away in the background.

And whilst all that humming is going on, you stop allowing yourself to want what you want and start making it more compatible with the current reality.

You might call it realism, but it’s actually a form of self-protection.  Of settling.

Wanting more has consequences. It brings visibility. It brings exposure. It brings risk. It brings the possibility that you step forward and are seen more clearly than before. It asks you to hold your ground in spaces where you may not feel fully ready. It invites judgment, resistance and pushback. So instead of moving forward, you stay in the messy middle. 

You want more. You explain why it is not possible. You continue exactly as you are. The hamster wheel keeps turning.

And day by day, a sense of low-level dissatisfaction creeps in. A sense that you are underused, or slightly off track; bored even.  There are moments where you catch yourself thinking, I could be doing more than this, or I could be doing this differently. Not more work. Different work. Work that has meaning and impact, not just busy work.

The systems you operate in may well be imperfect. Some things will be hard to change. Some constraints are real. The question worth considering, though, is this:  Where those constraints have become fixed in your own thinking. Where they have moved from being something you could navigate to something you no longer challenge.

Disrupt and challenge the status quo or stay with same-old, same-old.

There is usually a point where the external reality and your  internal story start to blur.

That is the moment to pause.

To notice what you actually want before you dismiss it. To see how quickly you find all the reasons why vs why not.

And then to ask yourself, quietly and honestly, without judgment, what you might be protecting.

And perhaps to stop arguing so convincingly for the version of things that keeps you exactly where you are?