I’m Bored With Being Told What My Problem Is. Are You?

I don’t know what your inbox, feed, podcast queue, bookshelf, or inner circle sounds like these days.

Mine can feel like a steady stream of people telling everyone what their problem is.

Your nervous system is dysregulated. Your money story is outdated. Your visibility wound is running the show. Your feminine energy is blocked. Your attachment style is sabotaging you. Your subconscious is protecting you. Your mindset is the issue. Your timing is now. Your next level is waiting. Your resistance is costing you. Your lack of clarity, structure, surrender, discipline, or alignment is the reason nothing is moving.

And honestly?

I’m bored.

Much of it has value. Much of it is wise, generous, thoughtful, and needed. I believe in healing. I believe in understanding our patterns. I believe in listening to the body, tending to the nervous system, noticing what keeps repeating, and being honest about what is actually running the show.  Yes, for sure….

I also think there’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from living in a culture that keeps turning the human experience into another thing to diagnose, fix, polish, upgrade, optimize, or explain.

At some point, the message underneath all the advice starts to feel like:

You are the problem. Fix yourself faster…

…And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that’s where freedom begins.

A lot of people are tired. Deeply devoted to growth, but tired of being turned into a project.

Tired of every desire becoming a wound to investigate. Where every hesitation is a block, every longing is evidence of lack or every difficult season is a sign they’re doing something wrong.

There’s a difference between reflection and endless self-surveillance, 

between healing and making yourself the problem over and over again,

between receiving wisdom and outsourcing your own truth to whoever sounds the most certain.

And certainty is everywhere right now.

Everyone seems to have the framework, the answer, the method, the missing piece, the thing to heal, release, regulate, claim, embody, activate, monetize, surrender, rewire, or stop tolerating immediately.

I understand why certainty is compelling.

When life feels unclear, a framework can feel like a handrail, a diagnosis can feel like relief and language can give us access to something we couldn’t see before.

But sometimes, (likely more often than we realize), the constant naming of what’s wrong pulls us farther away from the questions that return us to ourselves: 

What is true?

What feels alive?

What feels complete?

What’s asking for attention?

What keeps getting negotiated?

What have I been trying to make acceptable before allowing it to matter?

I’ve realized that so much of what we call confusion is actually negotiation.

We know something. Then we start negotiating with it.

It’s not always in big, obvious ways. Most of the time, it happens through micro-negotiations. …Tiny internal bargains we make with what we know.

We know something feels alive, but we call it impractical. We know something feels off, but we explain it away. We know something is asking for our attention, but we tell ourselves it can wait. We know what feels true, but we soften it, shrink it, polish it, postpone it, or try to make it more acceptable.

And the more voices we have telling us what our problem is, the easier it becomes to stop trusting the simple truth trying to rise from within us.

Truth often comes as a feeling before it becomes a decision.

A pull. A sense. A recognition. A place in the body that opens. A place in the body that contracts. A knowing we may not yet have language for, but can no longer honestly dismiss.

This is where many of us lose the thread. We’ve been trained to look outside ourselves for what’s wrong, what it means, and what to do next.

This is one of the central questions of Untamed: Where are you still negotiating with truth, freedom, and joy?

Fear belongs in the conversation. So do questions. So does healing…because, we are always becoming.

But there’s another question worth asking: Where has the constant search for the next answer started to drown out the guidance that is already present?

Because at some point, “doing the work” can become another way of turning yourself into a problem, analysis can become a way of postponing what’s asking to be lived, and someone else’s certainty can begin to seem more trustworthy than the truth rising inside you.

I’m not interested in becoming another voice that tells you what is wrong with you.

I am interested in the place underneath all of that, where you can hear yourself again.

Where truth isn’t constantly dragged into debate. Where joy isn't treated like a distraction. Where freedom isn’t postponed until every fear has been resolved. Where your life isn’t a problem to solve, but something you’re here to inhabit with more honesty, more presence, and more of yourself.

The next step may not be another diagnosis, another post, another course, another framework, or another person telling you why you’re stuck.

It may be noticing where you’ve been negotiating with what feels true, and no longer making yourself wrong for wanting the life that keeps calling you forward.

Private work inside Untamed is a space to get underneath the noise and return to what’s true: what’s complete, what wants life, what feels honest, and what you’re done negotiating.

If this is the kind of conversation you want more of, I have a few private spaces opening, whether for something short and focused or a longer arc of work together.