Maybe You Don’t Need More Discipline

Why the right support can matter more than simply trying harder

Lately, I’ve found myself sitting with a decision.

Not because I don’t know what to do. Not because I haven’t done my research. But because I know there will be people who won’t agree with my decision.

In fact, if I’m completely honest, one of my very first thoughts was, “I’m not going to tell many people.”

That thought stopped me in my tracks.

Not because there’s anything inherently wrong with my decision, but because I realised just how much power I’d given to the opinions of people who weren’t even part of it. I found myself wondering how many decisions I’ve delayed over the years; not because they weren’t right for me, but because I was worried about how they might be perceived by others.

Perhaps you’ve been there too.

Your decision may look nothing like mine. It could be asking for help, seeing a therapist, leaving a job, taking medication, starting a business, setting a boundary, or simply admitting that you’re struggling. The details are different, but the feeling is often the same: the quiet fear of what other people might think.

As I’ve reflected on all of this, I’ve realised that what I’m really exploring isn’t the decision itself. It’s the idea of support.

When we hear the word support, many of us imagine someone stepping in to rescue us. We picture someone taking over, fixing the problem or making the hard parts disappear. But I don’t think that’s what support really is.

I’ve come to believe that support is anything that helps us move towards the life we want.

Sometimes that support comes in the form of another person. Sometimes it’s a trusted friend who listens without trying to fix us. Sometimes it’s a coach, a therapist or a mentor who helps us see a different perspective. Other times it’s a practical tool, a healthier routine, stronger boundaries, technology, medication or simply giving ourselves permission to stop carrying everything alone.

Support isn’t a “one-size fits all” kind of thing because different seasons call for different kinds of support.

What supports me may not support you. What I needed five years ago may not be what I need today. Our circumstances change, our responsibilities change, and perhaps most importantly, our capacity changes.

One of the biggest lessons burnout has taught me is that capacity matters.

For years I believed that if I just had more discipline, more motivation or more willpower, I could push my way through almost anything. And perhaps there’s some truth in that because these skill sets have proved useful in the past.

And…in truth, I don’t currently have the capacity.

I’ve realised those two statements can exist together.

We tend to think in extremes. Either we’re disciplined or we’re making excuses; we’re strong or we’re weak; we’re coping or we’re failing.

Life has taught me that it’s rarely that simple.

Right now, my life is full. I’m building a business that I’m deeply passionate about. I have family, commitments and people who rely on me. Like so many women, I’m holding a lot of moving pieces.

Could I force myself through another “perfect plan”? Probably. I’ve done it before.

But experience has taught me that just because I can force my way through something doesn’t mean it’s the wisest or most sustainable path. Sustainable change has never come from punishing myself into action. It has come from choosing support that matches the capacity I have today.

That realisation changed the question I ask myself.

Instead of asking, “What’s the best solution?” I’ve started asking, “What support do I need right now?”

It’s a gentler question. A more honest one. It acknowledges where I am instead of where I think I should be. It reminds me that support isn’t there to replace effort; it’s there to make my effort sustainable.

Perhaps that’s the invitation for all of us.

To stop measuring ourselves against someone else’s path. To stop assuming there is only one acceptable way forward. And instead, to choose the support that allows us to keep moving, even if it looks different from what someone else would choose.

Because maybe the bravest thing we can do isn’t trying harder.

Maybe it’s trusting ourselves enough to choose the support we genuinely need.

A question to sit with…

What support do you need right now? And have you been dismissing it because it doesn’t fit your idea, or someone else’s, of what support “should” look like?