Stop Trying to Optimize Your Life (And Why Self-Optimization Fuels Anxiety)

There’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to improve your life.

The problem isn’t improvement. The problem is when improvement becomes a requirement or psychological demand for self-worth. Furthermore if we must always be constantly improving we leave no room for acceptance.

Bettering yourself is great. Telling yourself your not enough isn’t okay.

When Optimization Turns Into Pressure

We are living in a culture that encourages constant optimization.

Track your sleep.

Dial in your macros.

Engineer your morning routine.

Regulate your nervous system.

Maximize your potential.

None of this is pathological on its own.

But from a cognitive-behavioral perspective, distress is rarely caused by habits themselves. It’s caused by the beliefs attached to them.

When the belief becomes:

  • “If I’m not consistent, I’m failing.”
  • “If I can’t regulate my anxiety 100%, something is wrong with me.”
  • “If I’m not maximizing my potential, I’m wasting my life.”

We’ve crossed from growth into conditional self-esteem.

And conditional self-esteem is fragile. If self-worth is earned; it can be taken away.

Perfectionism in a More Sophisticated Form

Most people misunderstand perfectionism.

It’s not simply high standards.

It’s the belief that your value depends on performance.

That belief is strongly associated with:

Optimization culture often reinforces this pattern quietly.

It suggests that if you just refine the habits enough — sleep better, eat better, regulate better, focus better — you’ll finally feel like your enough.

But if your stability depends on perfect execution, you won’t feel stable for very long. Even if you capture it on one random occasion; then what? Are you required to replicated the performance indefinitely in order to maintain your worth?

That’s self-disturbing pressure, not self-actualization.

The Psychological Mechanism

Clinically, what we often see is rigidity.

Rigidity looks like:

  • Low tolerance for deviation
  • Intolerance of uncertainty
  • Excessive self-monitoring
  • Global self-judgment after minor mistakes
  • Negative self-rating

Missing one workout becomes evidence of inadequacy.

A bad night of sleep becomes a link to some personal failure.

An anxious day becomes proof that you’re not “cured.”

The behavior isn’t the issue.

The interpretation is.

This is a core principle in CBT and REBT: emotional distress is amplified by rigid, absolutistic beliefs — not by imperfection itself.

Control Is Not the Same as Health

Many optimization strategies are attempts to reduce discomfort through control.

Control can be useful.

But when control becomes an obsessive need to avoid feeling inadequate, anxious, or uncertain, it reinforces the very vulnerability it’s trying to eliminate.

The more you try to eliminate anxiety completely, the more sensitive you become to it.

The more you try to eliminate imperfection, the less resilient you become to normal human fluctuation.

Without acceptance, self-improvement becomes anxiety with better branding.

Unconditional Self-Esteem

Healthy discipline is compatible with unconditional self-worth.

Unhealthy discipline depends on conditional self-worth.

The difference is subtle but clinically important.

Unconditional self-esteem says:

I have inherent value as a human being. I can prefer to perform well, but my value is not dependent on it.

Conditional self-worth says:

I must perform well to justify my value.

The second creates chronic internal pressure.

The first creates cognitive flexibility.

And flexibility is what predicts long-term mental health.

A More Sustainable Model

Mental health is not optimal regulation.

It is psychological flexibility.

It is the ability to:

  • Miss a workout without collapsing your identity
  • Feel anxious without interpreting it as failure
  • Be inconsistent without becoming self-condemning
  • Improve without needing improvement to feel acceptable

Fixated attempts to optimize your life are often sub-optimal for your mental health.

Because they quietly reinforce the equation:

Performance = Value.

And that equation fuels anxiety.

Final Thought

You don’t need to abandon self-improvement. You need self-acceptance while doing it.

You need to loosen your attachment to optimization.

If your self-worth is stable, improvement becomes preferential.

Preferential thinking is sustainable.

Compulsive optimization (absolute thinking) is not.

Therapy FAQs: Why Am I Not Seeing Progress?

One of the most common frustrations I hear in therapy is some version of:

“I’m doing the work… but I don’t feel like I’m making progress.”

That feeling can be discouraging. People accustomed to measuring growth may question therapy’s effectiveness. Those concerned with improvement or productivity might also doubt if therapy is working.

Not seeing growth in therapy doesn’t mean nothing is happening. More often, it means progress is showing up in ways that are slower. It can be subtler and also harder to measure than we expect.

Here are a few reasons why therapy can feel stagnant even when meaningful change is happening.

1. Change Is Slow

We live in a world of immediate gratification. When something doesn’t produce quick results, it’s easy to assume it isn’t effective.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy isn’t fast-acting in the way people often hope for. But it is long-lasting. Real change tends to happen gradually, through repetition, practice, and consistency—not sudden insight alone.

That slowness can be frustrating, especially if you’re used to seeing effort quickly turn into outcomes.

2. Change Is Subtle

We love watching our kids grow up, but we don’t notice their growth day by day.

The same is true for our own personal growth.

Subtle progress is hard to see—even when it’s happening. When change occurs in small increments, it often only becomes visible in hindsight. That makes it easy to overlook and dismiss in the moment.

3. You’re Not Used to Looking for Progress

Many people I work with are high-demand, operating-at-maximum-efficiency types.

Your brain is used to looking for the deficit, not the progress.

By “deficit,” I mean the area short of perfection—the place where you could still improve. When your mind is trained this way, it becomes very good at spotting problems and very bad at taking inventory of wins.

We get so used to asking “What still needs work?” that we rarely pause to notice what has changed.

CBT sessions help slow this process down and intentionally identify progress—even when that progress is simply prioritizing mental health by showing up consistently to sessions.

That still counts.

4. Progress Is Not Linear

If we start plotting points of happiness or progress, it becomes clear pretty quickly that growth isn’t a straight line.

You’re not always going to feel good.

You’re not always going to be successful.

Sometimes you stub your toe.

Sometimes you get sick.

Sometimes you react to a trigger in a way you wish you hadn’t.

Those moments are just that—moments. Not the journey.

Temporary setbacks don’t erase progress. They’re part of it.

5. You’re Trying… But Are You Really Trying?

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com

Effort can be difficult to define, especially in therapy.

It’s easy to feel like you’re trying just by talking about things in session. But are you doing the work outside of therapy?

That might look like:

Journaling Taking breaks Practicing boundaries Prioritizing the right kind of self-care

Insight matters—but insight alone rarely creates change. Behavior and practice are where progress tends to take root.

6. Effort Doesn’t Equal Outcome

This part is important—and often overlooked.

Sometimes we are doing the work.

We can do the right things, and it still doesn’t mean we’ll get the desired results—at least not yet.

That doesn’t mean the effort is wasted.

Keep up the effort.

Keep noticing the effort.

Give yourself some damn credit.

And trust the process.

Final Thoughts

Therapy isn’t about constant improvement or feeling better all the time. It’s about learning how to relate differently to your thoughts, emotions, and behaviors over time.

If therapy feels slow or frustrating, that doesn’t mean it isn’t working. It may mean the changes you’re making are quieter, deeper, and still unfolding.

Those changes tend to last.

Parenting by Example: How Confidence is Modeled, Not Taught

At this stage of my career, I primarily work with young adults and adults navigating anxiety, depression, and self-esteem. But not that long ago, I was the young, cool therapist—the one parents wanted their ADHD or ODD sons to connect with.

I still love child development. I still enjoy working with kids and adolescents.

But nothing grounds you quite like having an 11-year-old daughter and a 13-year-old stepdaughter.

I am no longer the young, cool therapist. And almost certainly not the cool guy at home. (The eye rolls out number the laughs nowadays)

And honestly? That’s probably for the best.

When Being “Cool” Stops Being the Goal

Not that I’m trying to be cool to middle schoolers. Insert generic dad joke about not having rizz. (Listen, I’m cool enough to know not to even attempt it.)

A man wearing a red cap and skateboard, dressed in casual attire, greets a group of young people with the phrase 'How do you do, fellow kids?'

What’s shifted isn’t my sense of humor—it’s my focus. Somewhere in the second decade of parenting, the question quietly changes. It’s no longer about telling them they’re awesome little achievers that can do anything they put their little minds to.

It becomes about showing them what it looks like to be proud of yourself in life.

Am I someone I’d want to become?

Am I leading by example?

The First Decade: Building Their Confidence and life. 

During the first decade of parenting, I spent a lot of energy cultivating my daughter’s self-esteem. I encouraged her and celebrated her achievements. I made sure she knew she was capable and worthy.

Lately?

She gives significantly fewer shits about what I think.

She rolls her eyes and sarcastically asks “is this another life lesson?!” She complains when I encourage her to be proud of herself. I get it. It’s dorky now. It’s parent stuff.

The Second Decade: Modeling Living a confident enjoyable life. 

What actually needs my attention now isn’t coaching her confidence—but modeling it.

That means being proud of myself.

Not “cool” (that ship sailed when I started making comments worthy of Progressive Insurance commercials).

But grounded. Intentional. Honest.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering:

Would my daughter want to live a life like mine?

Two individuals running on treadmills in a gym with large windows showing a view of the outdoors.

Leading by Example Isn’t About Control—It’s About Consistency

I hope my daughter continues to be her own independent, creative self. (Though, good or bad, she has many of my idiosyncrasies.)

My role now feels less about directing her growth and more about living in a way that demonstrates self-respect.

One of the best things we can do for the people we love is take care of ourselves. We are not do it performatively, not perfectly, but consistently.

Good parenting isn’t just being present and attentive.

It’s being able to stand behind the life you’re living.

That includes being proud of your own:

  1. Daily habits
  2. Physical health and movement
  3. Mental health and emotional regulation
  4. Relationships
  5. Interests, hobbies, and passions

Kids notice what we do far more than what we say.

A framed sign with the text 'SELF CARE ISN'T SELFISH' displayed against a pink background, accompanied by a shadow from a plant.

Modeling Matters More Than Motivating

Recently, our girls did wall sits for an absurd amount of time—because I was doing a wall-sit challenge at my gym.

No lecture required.

No motivational speech.

Just modeling.

My daughter has also been leaning into humor lately. (I like to think we’ve made her life just stressful enough to have good material, yet comfortable enough to feel secure being silly.)

She told me a story from school that stuck with me.

She wanted to leave school early. She Googled me, pulled up my website, and showed her friends my profile—where my session fees are listed.

She announced:

“Guys, I have to come up with at least a hundred dollars for my dad to come get me.”

I was proud—not because she was “flexing,” but because she was playful, confident, and comfortable sharing this tibdit with her classmates ( and now with me). She proceeded to ask her classmates if she looked like me. (She did not need confirmation—unfortunately- poor girl looks exactly like her dad.)

What that moment told me was this:

She wasn’t embarrassed by me.

She wasn’t hiding me.

She was proud.

A man in sunglasses stands with a water bottle and a towel over his shoulder, watching two children play soccer in a sunny park.

Being Someone Your Kids Can Be Proud Of Starts With You

I know 11 is still young. The next decade will likely involve plenty of eye-rolling, boundary-testing, and days where I unequivocally take the L.

But I want to give myself the best chance possible—not by being perfect, but by being someone I respect.

Because when I’m proud of how I live,

when I show up for myself,

when I take care of my mental and physical health—

I’m not just teaching her confidence.

I’m showing her what it looks like.

And hopefully, one day, she’ll be damn proud of herself too.

When Things Don’t Make Sense: Our Brain’s War on Randomness

Our brains hate randomness.

They’re wired to make sense of things — to find patterns, explanations, and stories that help us feel safe in an unpredictable world. This instinct isn’t a flaw; it’s evolutionary design. Detecting patterns once helped us survive — to predict danger, find food, or spot threats before they happened. But in modern life, that same mechanism can backfire.

When things feel uncertain or chaotic, we start to search for meaning everywhere. We try to explain every silence, every coincidence, every delay. For those of us with perfectionistic or obsessive tendencies, this drive for control can become relentless. We organize, analyze, and overthink in an effort to turn the unpredictable into something we can manage. OCD, in many ways, is this process in overdrive — a mind trying to create order where none exists.

The irony is that our brains are not particularly good scientists. They make connections based on incomplete data, filling in gaps to maintain a sense of coherence. Psychology identifies these as cognitive distortions: such as confirmation bias, personalization, all-or-nothing thinking — mental shortcuts that make the random feel meaningful. These patterns can help us feel more in control, but they often lead us away from truth and toward anxiety.

Sometimes, things really are just random.

The person who gave you a dirty look.

The friend who didn’t text back.

The awkward silence.

The string of bad luck that makes you feel cursed.

Maybe none of it means anything. And that’s difficult for the mind to accept.

Accepting randomness challenges one of our deepest needs: the need for control and create predictability. Yet learning to tolerate uncertainty — what psychologists call uncertainty tolerance — is central to emotional health. When we stop demanding that every event carry meaning, we make room for peace and perspective.

So next time your mind rushes to interpret, pause.

Take a breath.

Ask yourself: What if this is just random?

You might find that letting go of the need to make sense of everything is, in itself, a kind of freedom.

Free Speech: Your Power Is in Your Reaction

If we wish to preserve the First Amendment, we must amend our behavior.

Free speech is not the right to say whatever we want without consequence. It is the right for others to say what they want — and our responsibility to accept that reality. Acceptance is not agreement. Acceptance is not encouragement. It is simply the willingness to let words exist, even when we despise them.

Unconditional acceptance means I can acknowledge that people behave like flawed ignoramuses — not because I support ignorance, but because people are innately fallible, fucked-up human beings.

Here’s the truth: I cannot say whatever I want without repercussions, especially in the world of 2025 social media. My livelihood, my relationships, even my reputation can all be affected by what I say. So in practice, “free speech” lives not in the speaker, but in the reactor.

And yet today, it feels like everyone is pointing fingers — the extremist on my left blames the extremist on my right, and the extremist on my right blames the extremist on my left. Each side claims they are defending free speech while really just trying to silence their enemy. But free speech doesn’t die from what they say. It dies from how we react.

That means free speech isn’t preserved by canceling others, rallying outrage mobs, or gathering our proverbial pitchforks against those who hurt our feelings. That instinct to punish or silence only makes speech more fragile. Stop demanding censorship, start managing your own reactions.

If I want to preserve free speech, my civil duty is to control my response to ignorance, inflammatory rhetoric, and fearmongering. I may dislike it. I may be deeply offended by it. But I can accept its existence, because without that acceptance, I undermine the very freedom I claim to defend.

Freedom is not in demanding the right to say everything you wish. Freedom is in choosing how you respond to others. That is where your real power lies.

Take it back

Accountability as a Path to Growth

Human psychology exists for the purpose of survival. Much of what we do—consciously or unconsciously—stems from the instinct to protect ourselves. This can often show up in unpleasant ways such as selfishness, defensiveness, or even narcissism. This is because we cling to our sense of self, avoid shame, and fight to maintain control. When someone holds us accountable, or offers constructive feedback, it feels like a direct threat. This feedback threatens our fragile survival system.

But what if feedback isn’t a threat at all? What if it’s the very thing that helps us move closer to who we want to be?

Reframing Criticism

Most of us have been conditioned to see accountability as punitive – a consequence for getting “caught” doing something wrong. That mindset might work comfortably when it’s holding others accountable, but when the focus shifts to us, it triggers defensiveness, denial, or blame-shifting.

At its core, though, constructive feedback can be a mirror. It reflects how our actions affect others, reveals our blind spots, and increases self-awareness. Instead of viewing criticism as an attack, we can see accountability as an invitation- an opportunity to self-actualize. When we move from fear to receptiveness, feedback stops feeling like a strike against our worth and becomes a compass guiding us in a better direction.

From “Fuck You” to “Thank You”

Imagine a culture where feedback isn’t met with hostility but with gratitude. Instead of a reflexive “fuck you” when we’re challenged, we respond with “thank you.”

Thank you for helping me see what I couldn’t.

Thank you for trusting me enough to call me to corrective action.

Thank you for letting me know where you stand so I can properly adapt.

That small shift can have profound effects. It builds trust in relationships, strengthens communities, and creates workplaces and families where honesty isn’t feared but welcomed. Accountability stops being a weapon and becomes a gift when we reframe it.

Choosing Growth Over Defense

This isn’t easy. Our instinct to protect ourselves won’t disappear overnight. But each time we catch ourselves getting defensive, we have a choice: double down on pride, or lean into growth. The latter requires humility, vulnerability, and courage. Yet it also leads to freedom—the freedom that comes from knowing we don’t have to be perfect, only willing to learn.

Unconditional self acceptance is the foundation of this work. Only when we accept ourselves fully can we acknowledge our mistakes and embrace feedback without shame.

If we, collectively, begin to approach accountability this way, we will change not just our individual lives but the culture we live in. A culture less obsessed with defending the ego and more committed to becoming better, together.

So the next time someone calls you out—or calls you in—pause. Breathe. And maybe, just maybe, try saying “thank you.” This week, let’s choose one phrase as our accountability anchor. Use something like “Thank you, I’ll have to think about that.” Carry it with you. Practice using it the next time feedback comes your way.