#avoidance

#avoidance

Peterson believes that avoiding difficult conversations is one of the fastest ways to weaken your mind. And honestly, he's right. I used to be the king of avoidance. If something felt uncomfortable, I'd find every excuse to dodge it. "It's not the right time," I'd tell myself. Or my personal favorite: "Maybe the problem will just go away." Spoiler alert: It never did.

Many people going through grief, infertility, loss, or prolonged stress find themselves quietly withdrawing from family gatherings, holidays, baby showers, weddings, and even casual get-togethers. Often, this is explained in terms of not wanting to get triggered. That explanation is valid. Triggers are real, and the emotional pain can be sharp, sudden, and last for hours. Framed this way, stepping back can feel like a very good form of self-care.

Many adult children aren't failing because they lack intelligence, talent, or opportunity. They are stuck because they think too much and act too little. The parents I work with often describe these children in the same way: bright, sensitive, thoughtful, and capable. Over time, this not only slows growth but also infantilizes adulthood, keeping capable young adults dependent on certainty, reassurance, and avoidance rather than action.

Daniel didn't look like a man falling apart. Pressed shirt. Polished watch. Phone buzzing every few minutes. Yet his hand trembled slightly as he reached for his coffee. "They said it was panic," he said, half whispering. "But it felt like dying." He had just left the ER after his second "heart attack that wasn't." On paper, he was the definition of success: a founder, husband, father. But inside, his mind was spinning at 200 miles per hour.

Dear Reader, I grew up in a household full of love and care-but also of elephants in the living room and eggshells I had to walk around so as not to ruffle a single feather. My parents are extremely sensitive and horrible listeners, so you can imagine how I coped: I lied. A lot. I lied to get away with things, but mostly I lied so that I wouldn't upset anyone or get into trouble.

The first time I discovered the social lubricant magic of alcohol was at a high school party. The music was loud, and I was anxious. A friend handed me a beer, told me it would help me loosen up. And it did. From then on, I learned to turn to alcohol for a little confidence boost every time the discomfort of social anxiety rises.