“I just don’t understand why this keeps happening to me,” Yael (a pseudonym) said with frustration.
“I help everyone. Whenever someone needs me—I’m there. But when it comes to myself… I have no energy, no time, and no space. I want to succeed, but I feel like I keep pushing myself aside.”
That was the moment the truth surfaced – raw and undeniable.
Yael, a wise, sensitive, and deeply caring woman, had spent years being everyone’s support system.
Always helping, always showing up, always putting others first.
Until one day, she realized something profound:
The help she was offering wasn’t just pure generosity – it was also a distraction.
A way to avoid the deeper questions:
“Am I truly allowing myself to receive?”
“Do I know how to show up for myself?”
She truly wanted to succeed.
She talked about financial stability, growth, building a solid foundation for herself.
Yet something kept stopping her.
She was full of energy when it came to lifting others up –
helping them succeed, giving them encouragement.
But when it was time to do the same for herself –
the energy disappeared.
Why is it easier to uplift others, but so difficult to uplift ourselves?
Yael loved collaboration.
It was almost an unspoken rule for her—to work with others, to be supported, to let them take the lead.
But as we dug deeper, it became clear—this wasn’t just about healthy teamwork.
She consistently preferred that others introduce her, recommend her, bring her forward.
She avoided presenting herself directly to the world.
She didn’t advertise herself on Google.
She didn’t put her website front and center.
She never openly promoted her work.
She convinced herself it was “just not her style.”
But the truth ran deeper.
She feared that stepping forward, taking up space, and owning her presence would require something of her—
something she wasn’t sure she could give.
“I’m just not good at marketing myself,” she admitted.
But that wasn’t the full story.
Beneath it was a much deeper fear –
“If I put myself out there, I am exposed. I am responsible. I could fail. And if I fail—there’s no one else to take the fall but me.”
So she took the indirect route.
A path where others recommended her, where she received opportunities through collaboration.
It gave her the illusion of movement – but in reality, it was keeping her small.
Her business remained limited.
Clients came, but not in the numbers she knew were possible.
And most of all – she wasn’t fully owning her path.
And then, as always, came the question:
“So, what should I do?”
Is the solution in taking action? Or perhaps… in pausing?
This question arises whenever we uncover a limiting pattern.
Naturally, insight leads to the urge to act.
To fix, to change, to push forward, to find a solution.
But before we rush to solutions,
there is a crucial step that we almost always skip –
The step where we simply feel.
How quickly we move to action,
instead of staying with the feeling that just surfaced.
And why?
Because truly feeling means…
Sitting with fear.
Acknowledging lack.
Facing pain.
Recognizing that we long for something we haven’t allowed ourselves to receive – love, acceptance, a sense of belonging.
What if action isn’t the answer? What if… the pause is?
We live in a world that glorifies fast action, immediate solutions, and constant forward motion.
If there’s a problem—we solve it.
If something is wrong—we fix it.
But sometimes, the act of doing is not the solution—it is the distraction.
Before we can truly know what action is right—
we first need to allow ourselves to feel.
And yet, most of us avoid this moment.
Not because we don’t want to feel,
but because we’re afraid of what we might find there.
We fear sitting with uncertainty.
We fear meeting our own vulnerability.
We fear acknowledging that we need something we’re not used to giving ourselves.
And so, we fill the silence with movement,
mistaking motion for transformation.
Here’s what happened when Yael finally faced it
As she explored her pattern, she traced it back to childhood.
From a young age, she had learned that if she helped others, she would be loved.
Her parents were overwhelmed – her mother was going through a difficult time, her father was emotionally distant.
She became the understanding one, the strong one, the one who was always okay.
Over the years, she kept playing the same role.
But now, it came at a cost.
Instead of focusing on herself—she poured her energy into others.
Instead of feeling her own lack—she filled the gaps for those around her.
Instead of sitting with the painful truth that she had never really let herself receive—she just kept giving.
And when she asked me, “So, what should I do?”
I answered:
“Before you do anything—stay with it for a moment. Just feel it. Don’t rush to fix it.”
How do we sit with uncertainty—without escaping into action?
Recognize that it’s not dangerous.
Uncertainty feels like free-falling, but it’s just a feeling.
Remind yourself: “I am experiencing uncertainty, but that doesn’t mean I am powerless. This will pass. I don’t have to run from it.”
Notice where it lives in your body.
Does it sit in your stomach? Your chest? Your throat?
Take a deep breath. Let it be there without trying to analyze or fix it.
Write or speak without looking for solutions.
Sometimes, putting it into words gives it space to move.
Try: “I feel uncertain because…” and let yourself express without searching for an answer.
Pause before taking action.
Before you rush to do something, ask:
“What if I just stay with this for a moment?”
Understand that uncertainty is a doorway to new awareness.
When we stop rushing to fix discomfort,
we create space for something new to emerge.
Patience with the Unknown—A True Spiritual Strength
The ability to sit with what is before searching for the next step is a profound spiritual strength.
At first, it appears as a trait—the ability to delay gratification, to resist impulsive action.
Over time, it develops into a quality—the ability to hold space for uncertainty without rushing to conclusions.
Ultimately, it becomes a virtue—the deep trust that life flows in its own rhythm, and that not every question needs an immediate answer.
I have seen this shift transform lives.
Those who embrace it find natural momentum, deep clarity, and a way of moving through the world that feels truly aligned.
Yael, too, learned to pause.
To feel what was missing.
To realize that the vulnerable place inside her—was not an enemy, but a gateway to healing.
This virtue of sitting with the unknown is a key theme in my upcoming book, releasing this year.
So I invite you to reflect:
Where in your life do you rush to act instead of allowing yourself to feel?
What might happen if, just for a moment—you simply let yourself be?
📌 Sometimes, the first step to change—is allowing what already is.
