Tag: self-care

Why Doing the Right Thing Doesn’t Always Feel Good

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in cognitive behavioral therapy, psychotherapy

Nowadays, we are seeing a ton of pop psychology and self-help advice that encourages us to prioritize ourselves by:

~Setting boundaries.

~Asserting our needs.

~Emphasizing self-care.

~Giving yourself grace.

Most of this is reasonable advice. However, for most of us, the problem isn’t a lack of information. We already know we should be setting boundaries. We know our needs matter. We know constantly sacrificing ourselves for everyone around us probably isn’t sustainable.

Knowing what to do is often the easy part.

Actually doing it can feel terrible.

When Healthy Choices Create Uncomfortable Emotions

We might assume that doing the “right” thing should feel naturally rewarding or empowering. It may not

Although setting a boundary is healthy, it’s also unfamiliar and can lead to conflict.

Although advocating for myself is appropriate, it can also be awkward and inconvenient.

Although prioritizing my own well-being is necessary, it can feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes doing the right thing for ourselves can be naturally rewarding in the moment. Yet most times doing the right thing comes with feelings of guilt, selfishness, shame, sadness, anxiety, hurt, or even pity for ourselves or the persons affected by our decision.

We might know intellectually that a boundary is reasonable while emotionally feeling like we have done something wrong.

“I know I need to assert my needs, but it’s going to create conflict.”

“I know I need to set this boundary, but what if they think I’m selfish?”

“What if I choose myself and something bad happens to them?”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“What if I advocate for myself and they feel hurt?”

These emotions can become powerful enough that we start using them as evidence.

I feel guilty, so maybe I did something wrong.

I feel selfish, so maybe I’m being selfish.

They’re upset, so maybe my boundary was unfair.

But emotions don’t always work that way.

Feeling Guilty Is Not the Same as Being Guilty

Our emotions are real, but that doesn’t mean every conclusion we draw from them is accurate.

You can feel guilty without being guilty.

You can feel selfish without being selfish.

You can feel anxious about conflict without the conflict being dangerous.

You can feel sad that someone is disappointed in you without being responsible for eliminating their disappointment.

That distinction matters.

Many of our emotional responses have been reinforced through years of experience. If you are accustomed to avoiding conflict, prioritizing other people, or receiving approval for being accommodating, suddenly behaving differently might feel wrong even when you consciously believe it is appropriate.

The discomfort isn’t necessarily proof that you made the wrong choice.

It may simply be the emotional experience of doing something different.

Sometimes We Have to Feel Bad

I would love to offer a strategy for setting boundaries, prioritizing yourself, and asserting your needs without experiencing any guilt, anxiety, sadness, or discomfort.

Sometimes we can reduce those emotions. We can challenge irrational beliefs, communicate more effectively, develop greater self-awareness, and make thoughtful decisions about when and how we advocate for ourselves.

But sometimes the uncomfortable emotion is still going to be there.

And sometimes the work is learning that we can tolerate it.

This doesn’t mean ignoring our emotions. It doesn’t mean deciding that we are always right or that other people’s feelings never matter. Emotional discomfort can provide valuable information, and our choices still deserve reflection.

But feeling bad does not automatically mean we behaved badly.

Sometimes we have to allow ourselves to experience guilt without immediately trying to make the guilt disappear.

Sometimes we have to tolerate someone being disappointed in us.

Sometimes we have to accept being misunderstood.

Sometimes we have to experience the anxiety of conflict rather than continually avoiding it.

And through those experiences, we can gradually learn that these emotions are uncomfortable without necessarily being intolerable.

The Goal Isn’t to Never Feel Bad

There is an important difference between trying to eliminate uncomfortable emotions and becoming more capable of experiencing them.

If we require ourselves to feel completely comfortable before setting a boundary, we may never set one.

If we need reassurance that nobody will think we are selfish before prioritizing ourselves, we may continue putting ourselves last.

If we need to know that asserting ourselves won’t create conflict, we may continue staying quiet.

Confidence rarely comes before the behavioral change. It develops because we acted despite the discomfort and discovered that we could handle what follows.

The more capable we become of experiencing these emotions without immediately abandoning our needs because of them, the more freedom we have to make decisions based on our values rather than solely on what feels most comfortable in the moment.

We can set boundaries.

We can advocate for our needs.

We can assert ourselves more confidently.

And we can give ourselves grace when doing those things is harder than we think it “should” be.

Doing the right thing for yourself doesn’t always feel good.

Sometimes the emotional discomfort isn’t evidence that you’re doing something wrong.

It might even be evidence that you’re finally doing something different—and doing the right thing for yourself.

My Top 3 Irrational Beliefs

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in anxiety, burnout, cognitive behavioral therapy, perfectionism, personal-growth, REFLECTION

The real B.S. I used to tell myself—and believed for longer than I care to admit.

As a cognitive behavioral psychotherapist, I spend a lot of time helping people identify irrational beliefs.

Very often the stories we tell ourselves and the assumptions we make are flawed or self limiting. We reach conclusions and fill in gaps without much evidence.

We subjectively create rules for ourselves that, at some point, we stop questioning.

Unfortunately for me, being a psychotherapist does not make me immune to any of this.

I have my own irrational beliefs. Some which I’ve stubbornly held onto for years. And the tricky thing about an irrational belief is that when you believe it, it usually doesn’t sound irrational.

It sounds completely reasonable to us at the time.

So in an effort at transparency and vulnerability, here are three of mine.

Irrational Belief #1: “I’m a psychotherapist. I shouldn’t be in great physical shape.”

For a long time, I had this strange belief about being physically fit. I told myself I didn’t need to be in great shape because I was a psychotherapist. Part of that was probably just a convenient excuse to do bare minimums.

But there was something else underneath it.

I thought being too physically fit might actually make me less relatable. Maybe people would look at me and wonder what I was trying to prove. Maybe they’d think I was hiding something.

Maybe a client struggling with their own health, motivation, confidence, or body image would look at me and think:

He doesn’t get it.

So somehow I turned not taking care of myself into something that felt almost professionally responsible.

That was my own B.S.

The reframe was much simpler:

I can care about my physical health and appearance because I care about me.

It doesn’t have to have anything to do with other people:

A) I can exercise because I like feeling strong.

B.). I can care about how I look because it makes me feel more confident.

C.) By challenging myself physically it reminds me I can do difficult things.

And none of those things make me less capable of understanding someone else’s struggle. If anything, what actually happens is the exact opposite of what I feared. I’m more confident and speak with more conviction in my approach. Theres more heart. I genuinely feel better.

My behavior is more congruent with a lot of the things I encourage in therapy.

And I think my clients benefit from that.

Irrational Belief #2: “If my clients find out I’m divorced, they’ll see it as negative.”

For years, I was extremely cautious about self-disclosure.

I’m a therapist. The session isn’t about me. I need to have strong boundaries. And these are good reasons to have boundaries around what and how much we share with clients. But somewhere along the way, healthy boundaries turned into boxed in walls. Based on fear or my own anxiety.

I worried that if clients knew too much about me, eventually something could be used against me.

Divorce was a big one.

He got divorced.

His marriage failed.

What does he know about successful relationships?

So I kept parts of myself hidden for far too long. Not necessarily because keeping them private made me a better therapist, but because keeping them private made me feel safer.

Eventually, I had to dispute that self serving by self limiting comfort zone.

I can have appropriate boundaries without being afraid of being known.

I can be proud of choosing divorce even if someone else sees it as failure.

I survived something difficult.

I made a decision that was healthier for me and gave me more opportunity to be the father I wanted to be.

And none of that disqualifies me from helping someone else navigate their relationships.

What actually happened?

I became more comfortable acknowledging my failures.

I became more intentional with self-disclosure instead of simply being afraid of it. (Also, no one used my divorce against me. It actually is more of a gateway into understanding people)

More importantly, I stopped believing that being a good therapist required presenting some carefully protected version of myself.

I can have boundaries.

I can keep parts of my life private.

But I don’t have to hide myself out of fear.

Irrational Belief #3: “Posting on social media to get clients is for therapists who need clients.”

This one is probably the most humbling to admit because I didn’t just avoid social media.

I judged other therapists for doing it.

I thought it was cringey.

There was this part of me that believed:

Just be good at your craft.

If you’re a good therapist, people will find you.

You shouldn’t have to shamelessly promote yourself.

And if you’re constantly posting online trying to get clients, maybe that says something about your ability as a therapist.

Then eventually I had to confront something uncomfortable.

I wasn’t avoiding social media because I had some deeply held professional principle.

I was boxing myself in because I cared too much about other people’s opinions.

What if another therapist thinks I’m cringey?

What if someone thinks I’m desperate for clients?

What if people I know see one of my videos and make fun of me?

I was allowing hypothetical opinions from hypothetical people to dictate what I was willing to try.

That isn’t freedom. It’s confinement.

The reframe became:

I don’t need to do this to still do it and enjoy it.

In fact, maybe it’s better to start doing something before you need it.

And what actually happened?

It’s fun.

I enjoy writing.

I enjoy making videos.

I enjoy trying to communicate psychological ideas in ways that people might actually want to read or watch.

I’ve realized that actively creating on social media feels a lot better to me than lurking as a passive recipient of overstimulation.

I’ve connected with people I otherwise wouldn’t have.

I’ve created more.

I’ve written more.

And yeah, I may have even gained a client or two.

They Were All the Same Irrational Belief

At first glance, these are three completely different beliefs.

One is about physical fitness.

One is about divorce.

One is about social media.

But when I started looking at them together, I realized they were really just different versions of the same irrational belief:

Other people’s hypothetical opinions should influence how I live my actual life.

That one had a lot more control over me than I realized.

And disputing it doesn’t mean I’ve convinced myself that nobody will judge me.

That’s just another irrational belief.

Someone might think I care too much about how I look.

Someone might think a divorced therapist has no business talking about relationships.

Someone might watch one of my videos and think I’m cringey.

Someone might read this entire blog post and think the same thing.

That’s possible.

The healthier belief isn’t:

Nobody will judge me.

It’s:

I can withstand it if and when they do.

I don’t have to organize my life around preventing negatives. I can adapt and overcome them.

Empathy or Enabling? Know your limits.

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in anxiety, burnout, cognitive behavioral therapy, PARENTING, personal-growth, psychotherapy, REFLECTION

Remove all text near people

Empathy is essential for human connection. It allows us to understand and support each other. It’s important to validate the emotional experiences of others in order to strengthen are most meaningful relationships. So at its core, empathy is necessary for healthy relationships

But empathy also has a limit. It’s not an endless resource.

It can take a lot out of us. Especially when it goes beyond understanding and into over-involvement, codependency, or enmeshment. Empathy to the Nth degree can begin to work against the very growth it’s meant to support.

A Spectrum of Empathy

Like most nuanced psychological principles – it can be most helpful to think of empathy as existing on a spectrum. Not all or nothing. Not binary. But with shades of grey

On one end, we often criticize and distance ourselves from those who lack empathy. Seeing the existence of empathy as an automatic positive.

Which empathy can be when grounded and with appropriate boundaries. This balanced or healthy empathy allow us to recognize someone else’s emotional experience without taking it on as our responsibility. This form of empathy supports both connection and autonomy. This is “true empathy” that is consistent with emotional intelligence.

When Empathy Becomes Self-Focused

However, for some as empathy intensifies, it can shift from selfless to selfish. We may begin to feel not only with someone, but for them to the point that their discomfort becomes difficult for the empathizer to tolerate.

At this far end of the spectrum, empathy becomes enabling when the empathizer finds themselves desperately trying to remove the discomfort from the other person. This happens when we claim to feel so badly for someone else that we no longer want them to feel it. But removing someone else’s opportunity for an emotional response, (including negative emotions) no matter how well intentioned is ultimately self serving.

This becomes limiting for one party and burdensome for the other. Instead of being about the other person’s experience, it becomes about the empathizers discomfort with their experience.

If we step in, fix, soften, or carry the emotional weight— we are not helping them, but relieving what we are feeling in response to it.

In that sense, empathy that has exceeded its limit can become more self-focused than it appears.

Why This Matters

Emotional discomfort plays an important role in growth.

Feelings like frustration, regret, or sadness are not problems to be eliminated—they are part of how people learn, adapt, and develop resilience.

When we consistently remove or absorb that discomfort for others, we may unintentionally limit their ability to build those skills.

Support does not require removing the experience. It requires allowing space for it.

Differentiating the Difference

A useful distinction is this:

  • Empathy says: “I see you and understand what you’re feeling.”
  • Enabling says: “I’ll take this from you so you don’t have to feel it.”

The difference is not in how much we care, but in how we respond to that care.

Conclusion

Empathy is not the problem. In fact, it’s necessary.

But when it goes beyond a healthy limit—when it shifts from understanding to over-carrying—it can become counterproductive.

You can care deeply about someone
without carrying what is theirs to feel.

That balance is where empathy is most effective.

A motivational quote over a background of burning firewood that reads: 'you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.'

Realistic Goal Setting: Why Most New Year’s Resolutions Fail (and What Actually Works)

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in Uncategorized

Every January, many people set New Year’s resolutions with the hope that this will be the year they finally become more disciplined, motivated, organized, emotionally regulated, physically healthier, and financially stable.

By February, most of those goals have stalled or been abandoned.

This is not because people are lazy or lack willpower. More often, resolutions fail because goal-setting is approached from an unrealistic psychological framework.

Understanding why New Year’s resolutions fail—and how behavior change actually works—can help create more sustainable and mentally healthy goals.

The Motivation Myth in Goal Setting

One of the most common beliefs behind failed resolutions is:

“I need to be motivated to start.”

Although this belief feels intuitive, it is psychologically inaccurate. From a Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy (REBT) perspective, this represents an unrealistic expectation that often leads to avoidance, frustration, and self-criticism.

Motivation is not a prerequisite for action. In most cases, motivation follows behavior, not the other way around. Research in behavioral psychology consistently shows that action precedes emotional momentum.

Waiting to feel motivated before starting is similar to waiting for confidence before engaging in the behavior that builds confidence. The sequence is reversed.

Why Unrealistic Goals Lead to Burnout

In addition to relying on motivation, many people construct goals that are overly broad or rigid:

“I’m going to completely change my life.” “I’m never doing that again.” “I’m all in or nothing.”

These all-or-nothing approaches are common cognitive distortions. While they may feel decisive, they often lead to burnout and reinforce the belief that setbacks reflect personal failure.

Sustainable behavior change tends to be incremental, repetitive, and unremarkable.

One habit.

Made manageable.

Repeated imperfectly.

This is not a lack of ambition—it is a more accurate model of how long-term change occurs.

The Problem with “New Year, New Me”

Popular self-improvement narratives often suggest that meaningful change requires becoming a different person. Clinically, this framing can undermine self-efficacy by implying that the current self is insufficient to initiate growth.

From a therapeutic perspective, progress does not require reinvention. It requires consistent effort from the existing self.

Behavior change is not an identity overhaul. It is a practice.

How Self-Defeating Thoughts Sabotage Progress

Before people disengage behaviorally, they often disengage cognitively. Self-defeating beliefs typically precede avoidance.

Common examples include:

“I need to feel motivated to start.” “I should be further along by now.” “If I can’t do it perfectly, what’s the point?”

Although these thoughts may feel true, they tend to increase psychological pressure, reduce distress tolerance, and make quitting more likely.

A Rational Alternative to Motivation-Based Change

REBT emphasizes replacing unhelpful beliefs with rational, flexible alternatives that support persistence:

“I do not need to feel motivated to act.” “I can tolerate discomfort.” “I can improve one small thing at a time.” “Effort itself has value.”

This is not positive thinking or affirmation-based work. It is cognitive restructuring grounded in behavioral principles.

Progress is built through daily effort and consistency, especially when motivation is low.

Practical, Realistic Goal Setting Strategies

For individuals seeking healthier and more effective goal setting, the following principles are supported by behavioral psychology and clinical practice:

Focus on behaviors rather than outcomes Choose one habit instead of multiple simultaneous changes Expect discomfort and plan for it rather than avoiding it Measure success by follow-through, not intensity

Less pressure.

More discipline.

Smaller steps.

This approach does not lower standards—it places them where they are psychologically sustainable.

Keywords targeted: realistic goal setting, New Year’s resolutions and mental health, motivation and behavior change, REBT therapy, behavior change psychology, self-discipline vs motivation

Home for the Holidays: Handling Family Stress

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in Uncategorized

The holidays have a funny way of amplifying everything—joy, nostalgia, expectations, and yes… family stress. Old roles resurface, familiar buttons get pushed (often expertly), and suddenly you’re reacting like you’re 14 again instead of the well-adjusted adult you worked so hard to be.

The goal isn’t to eliminate stress or conflict entirely (good luck with that!). It’s to manage it in a way that protects your energy, your values, and your sanity—while still allowing for connection, meaning, and maybe even a little fun.

Here are a few grounded (and realistic) ways to get through it:

1. Set boundaries for yourself

Have a game plan for how you want things to go. Boundaries aren’t about controlling other people. They’re about deciding what you will participate in.

This can look like:

  • Having a firm plan for how long you’ll stay somewhere
  • Deciding in advance, “If things escalate or get draining, I’m leaving”
  • Giving yourself permission to step away without over-explaining

Instead of trying to convince others to behave differently, you’re setting parameters for your own behavior. This shifts boundaries from confrontational to self-protective—and that’s usually far more effective.

2. Some conflict is okay (even during the holidays)

The holidays aren’t a conflict-free zone, and they don’t need to be.

People need feedback. If someone is pressuring you, ignoring your limits, or resorting to guilt, it’s reasonable to name what’s happening. You don’t have to shut down, explode, or silently endure it.

Sometimes the most regulated response sounds like:

  • “I’m not going to participate in this conversation.”
  • “That feels like guilt, and I’m opting out.”
  • “I’m open to talking, but not like this.”

Not everyone realizes their behavior is rude—or manipulative—or crossing a line. And even if they do, you’re allowed to acknowledge it in real time. I’m not a big believer in pretending things aren’t happening. You can “let them” do what they’re going to do and still name it.

3. Look for what you like. (Focus on the Fun)

When stress rises, attention narrows. We fixate on what’s annoying, uncomfortable, or disappointing. Focus less on who deserves coal and more on who deserves your presence 😉 

Intentionally look for:

  • People you genuinely enjoy talking to
  • Small moments of calm 
  • Opportunities for humor
  • Environmental pleasures (quiet snow, lights, a warm drink, the family pet)

This isn’t denial—it’s balance. You can acknowledge what’s hard and still orient toward what’s pleasant. Don’t just focus on the problem; focus on the fun, however small or fleeting it may be.

4. Keep nurturing your needs daily

Sacrifice is part of relationships. Losing yourself entirely is not.

Continue doing things that regulate you:

  • Reading
  • Exercising
  • Writing
  • Listening to music…that’s not Mariah Carey (unless that’s your thing—no judgment)

The holidays don’t require you to pause your identity or abandon the habits that keep you grounded. Protecting your energy isn’t selfish—it’s preventative care.

5. Lower the expectation bar (just a little or..)

Many people arrive at holiday gatherings with an unspoken script: This should be meaningful, memorable, peaceful, and deeply connecting.

That’s a lot of pressure.

Sometimes success looks like:

  • No major blowups
  • A few decent conversations
  • Leaving with your nervous system mostly intact
  • Advocating for yourself 

Connection doesn’t have to be profound to be real. Let “good enough” count.

6. Remember: you don’t have to process everything in the moment.

Just because you notice something doesn’t mean it needs to be resolved over mashed potatoes.

Some insights are best saved for:

  • Later reflection
  • Therapy
  • A journal
  • A walk the next day

You’re allowed to observe without immediately engaging. Not every realization needs an audience.

Final Thought

The holidays don’t magically change family dynamics—they just put them under brighter lights. The aim isn’t perfection or total harmony. It’s showing up in a way that aligns with your values, protects your well-being, and leaves room for moments of connection where they naturally exist.

And if all else fails? You can always step outside, take a deep breath, and remind yourself: This is temporary.

The Presence of the Positive 

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in Uncategorized

I often tell clients to look for the presence of a positive, not merely the absence of a negative.

It’s an important shift. Our minds are wired to scan for what’s missing, unsafe, or imperfect—an evolutionary survival skill that doesn’t always serve us in modern life. Gratitude reframes that instinct. It invites us to focus on what we have instead of what we don’t, on what is rather than what’s lacking.

Progress Isn’t a Destination

We tend to measure our lives by how far we are from some imagined ideal—some future point where everything is optimized, organized, perfected. But progress is an asymptote; it never fully touches perfection. Growth doesn’t happen by crossing a finish line. It happens in small, steady increments that accumulate into something meaningful.

Gratitude helps us notice those increments.

It reminds us that even when the big picture feels unfinished, movement is still happening.

What We Once Wanted, We Now Have (Understanding Hedonistic Adaptation)

This is where something called hedonistic adaptation becomes important.

Hedonistic adaptation is a psychological process in which we quickly get used to positive changes in our lives—no matter how exciting or meaningful they initially felt. Our emotional baseline creeps back to “normal,” and the new good thing becomes… ordinary.

It’s why we crave something intensely, feel a surge of happiness when we get it, and then, after a while, barely notice it.

Two years ago, I really wanted that new car. Now it’s just… my car.

A new phone arrives with enthusiasm—and within months it becomes an extension of daily routine.

Gratitude gives us a counterweight to that drift.

It lets us briefly look back—not to dwell, but to appreciate.

It helps us recognize the dreams we’ve already achieved, the goals we’ve quietly fulfilled, and the ways our lives have improved even if we no longer feel the initial spark.

We don’t have to cling to the past, but we can let it reorient us toward appreciation.

Being Here, Now

At its core, gratitude is an anchor to presence.

It’s a gentle interruption of the mind’s tendency to chase the next thing, the next fix, the next improvement. When we shift attention to what exists in this moment—what is steady, what is working, what is simply here—we create space for a kind of flow state. Not a performative productivity flow, but a grounded, embodied one.

Sometimes gratitude is big and inspirational.

Sometimes it’s small and quiet.

And sometimes it’s simply acknowledging that we’re still standing—that existence itself is a positive when so many things could have knocked us down.

A Simple Invitation

This week, try noticing one presence of a positive each day.

Not what’s missing.

Not what needs fixing.

Just one thing already here that speaks to growth, resilience, or quiet abundance.

Gratitude won’t erase the hard things, but it can re-balance them.

It reminds us that even amidst struggle, there are moments worth recognizing—moments that show how far we’ve already come.