This Sunday I’m performing publicly for the second time in my life.

The first time was last year. I trembled like a leaf backstage waiting to be called, bargaining with myself: If you can just make it to your starting position, you’ll be fine. Muscle memory will take over. You’ve got this.

I guess I was right. The only part of the performance I remember is briefly “coming to” while I was spinning faster than I ever had at that point. “Wow, I’m zooming,” was genuinely the only conscious thought I had the entire three minutes I was on stage.

I wrote later:

I was spinning so fast and the crowd was cheering so loud and that moment -- the moment I realized I could do it, I was doing it, that people were seeing me -- was the peak.

(This was a pole dance performance if the spin element is confusing you. More later.)

Afterwards was the highest, most natural high I’ve ever experienced. Couldn’t tell me nothin’. I’ve struggled with debilitating anxiety for much of my life and have had a very hard time taking up space and being seen; to do something so scary and bold and out-of-character seemed to make something in my brain snap. I believed, for the first time, that I could truly do anything.

So why am I five days out from the opportunity to do it again and feel like I just… can’t?

Why can’t you just [BLANK]?!

I would bet money on the fact that you’ve been here too: You put a task on your list with every intention of doing it in a timely manner — whatever that means. You don’t get it done today, but that’s no problem; you’ll do it tomorrow. But then the same thing happens tomorrow. And, before you know it, it’s been a month and you actually dread checking your task list because if you see that thing one more time you’re going to explode.

It’s time for you to face it, you tell yourself: You’re a procrastinator.

And we’re not very kind to ourselves about it.

Your internal monologue ever sound like this?

God, it’s a just freaking email, what’s your problem? It’s going to take you five minutes, why can’t you just do it?

All of a sudden we treat ourselves like an angry parent or teacher: Why can’t you just do the work? Why can’t you just apply yourself? Why can’t you just make an effort?

We become mean to ourselves — even though we know it’s “just a freaking email”.

I blocked my calendar this past weekend so I could spend as much time as possible nailing down my choreography. Instead, I spent — I’m not joking — more than seven hours on Saturday alone reorganizing my notes.

There was that voice: It’s a three-minute song. Why can’t you just do it?!

Why do we treat these questions as if they are rhetorical?

I’m trying to eliminate the word “just” from my vocabulary this year. Its primary function — the way I tend to use it — is minimization.

“I’m just following up,” or, “I’m just reaching out,” or, “It’s just an email.”

We use “just” to make things feel smaller. Less obtrusive. Less important. Less difficult.

Back to that teacher example, were you also one of those students? The type who was praised for being smart, but who struggled to complete assignments? When I was a kid, it was phrased as me being “bored by school”, but as I got older, everyone acted like I was refusing to do schoolwork out of… idk, rebellion??

But it wasn’t that for me, and I doubt it was for you.

It wasn’t that I felt like the rules didn’t apply to me or that school wasn’t important or even that I simply didn’t want to do it. It wasn’t that I was bored (although I definitely was). The issue was that “just” reading a textbook chapter or “just” finishing a lab report was different for me than it was for some of my classmates.

Looking back as an adult at the number of people who asked some variation of, “Why can’t you just apply yourself?”, I want to scream: THERE WAS A VERY GOOD REASON, JANICE.

But it never felt like they were actually asking, right?

It didn’t seem to matter if you were struggling because of your home life, or because of invisible or undiagnosed disabilities, or because you were having an off week (or month or quarter).

They weren’t actually asking why you couldn’t, they were reminding you that you must.

And so we almost never gave them a real answer. I’m not sure most of us could have articulated it as kids even if we tried.

“Well, math teacher, I’m struggling to ‘apply myself’ because my parents just got a divorce and I had to get a job to help mom pay the rent and now no one can pick up my little brother from school because I have to clock in at McDonald’s before he gets out of soccer practice and, idk, I really don’t feel like doing homework on the quadratic formula when I have to worry about this all over again tomorrow.”

This wasn’t my situation, but I know it was the situation of some of my classmates, and they deserved grace and patience and support even when they couldn’t find the words to say so.

So did I. And so did you.

Now, years and years removed, this is still how many of us talk to ourselves when we’re having a hard time with a task or project. We ask why we just can’t do it, but then we don’t wait for an answer.

And there is an answer.

This is not a rhetorical question.

Three reasons you actually aren’t doing [BLANK].

If you are struggling to do something — especially (!) something that you know you’re capable of doing — there is a reason.

That reason often falls into one of three categories.

You lack trust in yourself.

This is a reason you’ve probably thought about before.

You don’t “just write” the blog post because you’re worried it won’t be good enough. You don’t “just send the email” because you aren’t sure you’ll say the right thing. You don’t “just launch” the product because you’re convinced no one will want it.

You know you can write a blog post or send an email or sell a product. You’ve done it before. But there’s something in the back of your head that makes you think this time will be different. This time, you won’t pull it off.

Procrastination stemming from perfectionism is not just a lack of confidence. It’s a learned lack of trust in yourself.

Circling back to my choreography procrastination, I know I can dance to a three-minute song. I’ve done it before. I do it often, actually. But what if this time is different? Can I trust my ability to replicate past success?

Even if it feels this way sometimes, your work is not a house of cards. It’s not going to be knocked over because this one thing isn’t as good as you’d hoped.

One way to move through this fear is to plan for the worst case scenario.

Let’s say you publish a blog post that actually is “bad”. What does that worst case scenario look like for you? No one reads or shares it? Someone does read it, but says something nasty about your writing? Seriously — what is the worst that could happen?

And if that thing does happen, what will you do?

If no one reads your post, that’s okay. Maybe you try a different topic or style next time. If someone emails you that your writing is bad and smelly and no one likes you, I’m not sure that’s the type of person you want to appeal to anyway.

My personal “worst case scenario” for performing is getting sick on stage. How embarrassing! But also… How unavoidable? This could happen even if I do every single thing right.

So if it does happen, that’s the plan? Walk off the stage, find my partner, and have him take me home so I can cry in peace, lol. It would suck tremendously, but this is not a life or death situation! If I get sick, I get sick, and if anyone wants to judge me for that, I don’t know what to tell them! Don’t be rude!

Having a plan for your worst case scenario makes it feel not quite so bad. You know shit happens, and then you deal with it. This post or email or product isn’t much deeper.

If it doesn’t work, you’ll try again tomorrow, like you always have. Nothing’s kept you down yet, right?

You lack interest.

Maybe the adolescent comparisons are getting tired, but I’m not done yet.

I saw a TikTok several months ago where a mom was complaining that her son hasn’t been doing his homework because all he wants to do is play video games.

Uh… Yeah?

Video games are more fun than homework — what was the question again?

Sometimes your procrastination is this simple, too: there are things you would rather be doing.

Granted, our impulse control is a bit better on account have having a fully-developed frontal lobe. We know we can’t shouldn’t play video games all day, every day because we face Grown-Up Consequences, not just poor grades.

But having better impulse control doesn’t mean that we have to white-knuckle our tasks.

If you feel disconnected from a project, if your mind keeps drifting elsewhere, if you’re desperate to do literally anything but this, try finding the Why.

I don’t mean your big overarching “Why” behind your work and brand, I mean why are you trying to do this specific thing, right here and right now?

Maybe you’re working on something because you were paid to. Break that down even deeper. Why did you commit to this project, with this person, at this time? What connected you to the work in the first place? Do you still feel like it was a good call?

Maybe you’re working on something because you’re implementing a new strategy. Well, why? What were you dealing with that sent you in this direction? Is there a specific reason this strategy resonates with you or are you throwing spaghetti at the walls?

Finding the why isn’t just about retracing your steps; it’s about uncovering hidden meaning and motivation in what got you started in the first place.

It’s kind of like taking the task “Update FAQ Page” and turning it into, “Turn my FAQ page into a place of clarity and connection. Make sure each question makes the audience feel seen and heard. Use it as an opportunity to experiment with different messaging.”

Which of those sounds more engaging?

Finding the why is also about being real honest with yourself about when you’re on the right track. And when you aren’t.

Maybe this new strategy isn’t what you should be pursuing. Maybe the FAQ page update can wait a little bit. Things get harrier when you’re doing them for clients or customers, but even then, there’s no shame in backing out of a project (if done gracefully, with refunds, etc etc).

There is nothing wrong with deciding you don’t want to do something anymore. Just be sure that this is actually the issue, and it’s not fear stemming from one of these other areas.

You lack clarity.

This is the thing I struggle with. It is almost always the reason I’m procrastinating: I don’t know what to do next.

Pole dance is tricky. Not just in execution, but in finding your style. Your finesse. There are techniques and poses to master like in any other form of dance, but there is so much freedom in your movement compared to something like, I dunno, ballet. Tango. Jazz or tap. The possibilities are endless.

But limitless possibilities means unending choices, which means immediate decision fatigue.

The primary reason I ignored that inner voice all day Saturday is because I didn’t know where to start. Did I want to be a little sensual? Did I want to focus on acrobatics? Did I want to move fast or slow? Focus on floor moves or aerial tricks? Should I wear this skirt? Heels or socks??

No wonder I didn’t just want to turn on my music and jam. All those choices feel like work, in and of themselves.

I had the same thing happening with an email I procrastinated on for… An embarrassing amount of time. I can’t tell you how many weeks I spent just moving this task to the next day, then the next, then the next.

The email was supposed to be a list of backup solutions for Microsoft 365. I’d already done the research and just needed to send this person a list of options. Why couldn’t I “just” write the email?

Because that’s not the task.

The task was not “send the email”, it was:

• Find all the links I’d saved for backup options.
• Consolidate the list into my top five recommendations.
• Confirm pricing and workflow for the short-list options.
• Draft an email with the short-list options, their pricing, and implementation timeframe.
• Then, and only then, could I “send the email”.

I knew there were all these steps that needed to be completed before sending the email, but that doesn’t register when you see this seemingly tiny, simple item on your list every day. It’s like my brain would short-circuit: Instructions unclear, email not available.

Look for the smallest, most specific thing you can do right now.

Maybe the smallest step for writing a blog post is to look at your post ideas. Or find that old draft you were working on.

Maybe the smallest step for updating your FAQ page is to read what’s already there.

What is a tiny thing you can do in the next three minutes to get more clarity on the task you’re struggling with?

…Or maybe it’s none of the above.

Those are three examples I tend to see in my work and in working with clients, but they aren’t all-encompassing. You’re not actually a No Good Very Bad Person if your current flavor of procrastination doesn’t fit neatly into one of my boxes.

Sometimes you’re tired. Sometimes you need a break. Sometimes you forget that you spent your entire weekend doing chores and never actually had a day fully off “work”. Sometimes you stub your toe first thing in the morning and it puts you in a bad mood.

It happens. It’s fine. You are fine.

Curiosity, compassion, and context for your entire self.

I think we’ve become so accustomed to the language and ideology of productivity and business gurus and the language of ““optimization”” that we see it as a moral failing when we aren’t tripping over ourselves to get A Thing done.

Here’s the deal, though: You’ll never be fully optimized.

You will never be a person who completes every single task, meeting every single deadline, producing perfect work every single time.

Neither will I. And what great news!!!

Releasing the need to seek peak productivity all of the time means I have the space and energy to explore things just for me. It gives me time to have hobbies, like dancing — and sometimes those hobbies start to feel a little bit like work and you take a break to do something else that comforts you.

You are not a work horse. You are not a machine. You are a person with a life outside of your task list — a life outside of your responsibilities and obligations. But gurus don’t want to say that because then how are you going to feel bad enough about yourself to buy their $1,000+ course on ""hacking"" your productivity??

When you ask yourself why you aren’t doing something, try doing so without any judgement. There’s nothing to be angry about. It’s more than likely that you have a need that isn’t being met — needs around trust, clarity, attention, energy, etc.

Just like when you were a kid.

When that need is met, the work naturally follows. Sometimes it’s not the work you expected, but something better, more aligned.

Instead of thinking about this as procrastination, trying thinking about it as resistance.

Ask what is making you resist doing this work. And then actually listen for the answer.

You already have it.

Trust me.

P.S. If you caught my last newsletter and were interested in the Fairy Godmother training, it's available now on Gumroad! I'm looking for some help getting transcripts generated for this and other projects – feel free to respond to this email with pricing if you're up for it!