Many people describe feeling “stuck” as if it’s a personal flaw — as though they’re somehow lacking the drive, motivation or discipline that everyone else seems to manage. 

It’s something I hear often in my work with clients across Cheltenham and Gloucestershire. 

They’ll say things like, “I don’t know why I can’t just get on with it,” or “Everyone else seems to cope — why can’t I?”

But stuckness rarely comes from a lack of ability. It almost never comes from laziness or disinterest. And it certainly doesn’t come from a lack of potential. 

More often, it arises from something quieter, more internal, and far more human: 

the experience of holding two competing directions in the mind at the same time.

One part of you wants to take a step forward.

And another part hesitates.

Not because it’s trying to sabotage you, but because it’s trying to keep you safe in the only way it knows how.

This internal split affects more people than you might imagine. In fact, it’s one of the most common patterns I see in clients who are intelligent, capable, high-functioning, and outwardly confident. 

They’re not stuck because they lack strength — they’re stuck because two different parts of them are trying to lead at the same time.

It often sounds like this:

“I want to do it… but I’m worried I won’t get it right.”

“I want to slow down… but I don’t want to fall behind.”

“I want to start… but I’m not ready for the discomfort it brings.”

“I want to change… but I’m holding onto the familiarity I know.”

These are not excuses. They’re signals.

They tell us that your mind is trying to honour both progress and protection.

And when both sides feel equally important, the system pauses.

This pause is what we label as “stuck.”

But the pause is intelligent

It’s organised.

It’s your mind waiting for clarity rather than risking overwhelm.

The mind can cope with pressure.

It can cope with uncertainty.

It can even cope with fear.

What it can’t do is follow two opposing instructions at the same time.

It’s a little like driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake.

You’re not failing to move.

You’re simply not aligned.

And here’s the interesting part:

movement often returns the moment one direction becomes even slightly clearer than the other. 

Not dramatically clearer — just enough for the mind to settle.

This is why people can feel stuck for weeks, then suddenly wake up one morning and do the very thing they’ve been avoiding. Nothing magical happened. The internal tug of war eased. The conflict softened. One direction became steadier than the other.

There’s a metaphor I use often because it captures this beautifully.

Imagine standing at a door holding two keys.

One key is labelled “move forward.”

The other is labelled “stay here.”

You try one key, then the other, then you pause.

Not because you’re indecisive or incapable,
but because both keys carry meaning.

Both represent something important.
Both pull your attention.

You can’t turn both keys at once.
Something has to settle.

The moment one key feels “steady enough for now,” the door opens.

Not dramatically.
Not with fireworks.

Just naturally — as if the resistance was never really about the door at all.

You were never stuck.
You were choosing.

And once people truly understand this, something shifts.

There’s less frustration.
Less self-blame.
Less fear that they’re “falling behind.”

Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?”
the question becomes, “Which part of me is unsure, and what does it need?”

Sometimes it needs reassurance.

Sometimes it needs answers.

Sometimes it needs to know it won’t be overwhelmed.

Sometimes it needs time.

And sometimes it simply needs to be heard.

In my work at Phoenix Hypnotherapy, I see this pattern in so many different areas of life — setting boundaries, overcoming anxiety patterns, making decisions, improving confidence, changing routines, letting go of old habits, starting new ones, or navigating periods of overwhelm. 

People often carry a quiet inner conflict without realising it, and simply recognising it changes the entire landscape.

When you name the conflict, the tension reduces.

When tension reduces, clarity rises.
And when clarity rises, movement follows.

Your mind doesn’t require a perfect decision.
It doesn’t need certainty.
It doesn’t need a five-year plan.

It simply needs a direction it can trust enough to begin.

If you’ve been feeling stuck recently, ask yourself gently:

“Is it possible that two parts of me want different things?”
“What might each part be trying to protect?”
“What would help these parts move a little closer together?”

You may find that you don’t need a breakthrough.
You just need a moment of inner agreement.

You’re not stuck.
You’re deciding which key to turn.
And the moment one key feels steady enough, the next step becomes clear again — sometimes quietly, sometimes unexpectedly, but always in the moment your mind feels safe enough to take it.

If this feels familiar, you may also find my article on procrastination helpful — you can read it here.