Tag: self-improvement

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.

Embrace Change: The Power of Identity in Personal Growth

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

A pair of black and blue basketball shoes placed on a stone surface with green grass in the background.

I shared this story with someone recently who was struggling with identity, confidence, and feeling stuck. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it applies to a lot of people—personally and professionally.

Some people will remember the early days of me doing all-out sprints in Jordans. I’m lucky my knees survived.

At the time, it made perfect sense to me.

Not because they were built for running. They weren’t. It made sense because they matched who I believed I was.

Basketball was my sport. Basketball had culture. It had confidence, energy, familiarity. It was part of my history. Running, on the other hand, was something you did for conditioning. It wasn’t something I identified with. It belonged to a different type of person.

That distinction mattered more than I understood.

Because many of us do this in life.

We step into something new while trying to preserve an old identity. We say we want growth, but we bring outdated self-perceptions into new environments. We want new results while staying emotionally attached to the version of ourselves that feels familiar.

That creates friction.

Eventually, after enough feedback, my stubborn ass bought real running shoes.

Small purchase.

Big shift.

The shoes didn’t magically change my life. They didn’t make me faster overnight. They didn’t transform me into a runner.

What they did do was signal that I was ready to take this new chapter seriously.

They helped me stop relating only to who I had been and become more open to who I was becoming.

That’s an important distinction.

Real change usually starts with action. You show up. You practice. You make better choices. You build consistency.

But sustainable change often requires something deeper: a shift in identity.

You stop saying, “I’m trying to do this.”

And start saying, “This is part of who I am now.”

That applies everywhere:

The person trying to become healthier while still seeing themselves as someone who always quits. The professional stepping into leadership while still thinking like they need permission. The person rebuilding after divorce, loss, or burnout while still defining themselves by the old chapter. The entrepreneur trying to grow while still attached to the safety of playing small.

Behavior matters.

But behavior becomes more powerful when it aligns with identity.

I had already started running before I bought those shoes. But it wasn’t until I changed how I saw myself that it started to feel meaningful.

Sometimes the next level of growth isn’t more effort.

It’s updating the story you keep telling yourself.

You don’t need to start running.

You don’t need to buy new shoes.

But if you’re stuck between who you’ve been and who you want to become, remember:

You don’t have to run in Jordans.

Commitment Over Comfort: How discipline outweighs feelings

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in Uncategorized

Anyone can create a goal. Anyone can imagine a vision for themselves or how they’d like their life to be. But a vision without effort is counterproductive—sometimes it even worsens that damn depression. The world doesn’t hand out rewards for what you dream. It’s what you do, especially when you don’t feel like it, that moves you closer to the life you want.

Self-discipline is committing to your goals through action. It’s the quiet, consistent work when no one is looking that builds pride and self-respect. Commitment is action-based; wants are feelings-based. And while our feelings are valid and understandable, they aren’t the deciding factor. At times, we need the reminder: don’t wait for the feeling—do it anyway.

In CBT and REBT, we often emphasize how thoughts shape behaviors. But the reverse is also true: behaviors can reshape our thinking. When we take action first, even against resistance, motivation and confidence often follow. Each step forward is not only progress toward a goal, but also proof that we can trust ourselves to follow through.

Of course, there are times when we overindulge or fall short of our vision. I do too. And with that can come a sense of shame or guilt. But rather than seeing it as failure, we can treat that discomfort as a notification—and attempt the following steps

1. Remind ourselves that our behavior is out of sync with our values. Identify the commitments that we truly value.


2. Choose one behavior that reconnects us to our commitments. This next step, choosing commitment over comfort, strengthens the muscle of self-actualization. We move closer to the life we want—not through fleeting motivation, but through persistent action.


3. Take a moment to pause and appreciate our existing and current efforts. Not just the outcome, but the act of showing up. That self-respect is a kind of pride no external pleasure can replace.

Reflection for the week:

Where are you waiting to “feel ready” before you act? Choose one small action that aligns with your commitment and do it—even if you don’t want to. Then pause to appreciate the effort itself. More motivation may follow, but the real strength is built in that moment of action.