

I used to eat confusion for breakfast, not stuck-on-the-couch confusion.
The quiet, respectable kind.
I was taking action & saying yes to things but underneath it all was a low-grade hum of “I’m not totally sure.”
Not sure if this was the right offer.
Not sure if this was the right next step.
Not sure if I should wait, adjust, rethink, gather more information.
For a long time, I thought if I just kept going I would arrive into some magical place called clarity and everything would “click” where everything would click and I’d finally feel settled.
What I didn’t see was that confusion had a job and it was doing it well, it softened the pressure.
If I stayed slightly unsure, I didn’t have to fully own what I was building & why I wasn’t there yet.
If I stayed in question mode, I didn’t have to stand behind decisions with my whole chest. If I stayed “figuring it out,” the stakes stayed conveniently fuzzy & fuzzy stakes are a form of relief.
I got so tired of feeling confused that one day I finally had enough and told myself I was choosing clarity. Not because I suddenly knew everything, far from it but because I was exhausted by the constant second-guessing. I started wondering what would actually happen if I stopped telling myself I was confused.
I mean…What was the worst-case scenario, really?
The answer was uncomfortable but obvious: I might have to look at why I wasn’t “there yet” and own it. I might not be able to hide behind the idea that I was still “sorting it out”.
That’s when it became clear that confusion wasn’t the real issue. Confusion was protecting me from responsibility. Responsibility for bigger numbers, and for being someone other people might follow, copy, or quietly expect consistency from.
Clarity, on the other hand, creates gravity, and gravity is a decision. We tend to imagine clarity as this moment where the entire picture comes into focus, but that’s rarely how it’s worked for me.
More often, clarity looks like seeing the next few steps and deciding to take them without knowing how everything will unfold.
When things are clear, they pull on you. They ask for follow-through, for boundaries, for leadership. They require you to stick with decisions long after the moment of excitement has passed.
Confusion keeps things lighter. You can keep moving without fully committing, and as long as you’re not committed, the pressure stays at bay. And pressure, I eventually realized, was the thing I’d been managing all along.
I would keep moving, but I wouldn’t land. I would stay active, but not fully accountable. Visible, but never quite definitive. Involved enough to feel busy, but not responsible for scale or what growth might actually demand of me.
Confusion made this arrangement feel harmless. It gave me language that didn’t sound like avoidance, so I never had to call it that. It’s so sneaky like that.
After all, I was trying.
And as long as I was trying, I didn’t have to admit that what I was really avoiding wasn’t effort, it was the weight that comes with deciding.
What changed wasn’t that I found a better strategy from some millionaire online coach or finally unlocked some elusive clarity. Those things can be useful, but they weren’t the turning point for me. The real shift came from asking a different kind of question, one that felt less inspiring and more honest:
What level of responsibility am I actually available for right now?
Not what I wanted to be available for.
Not what sounded good when I said it out loud but what I was genuinely willing to hold?? Emotionally, practically, energetically without backing out the moment it felt heavy.
I also started questioning an assumption I didn’t realize I’d been living by: that my capacity for responsibility was fixed. That there was some hard ceiling I was brushing up against, instead of a muscle I hadn’t fully trained yet.
What if I could carry more than my brain was insisting I could?
What if the discomfort wasn’t a warning just unfamiliar weight?
We tend to treat pressure like the enemy, like it’s something successful people have somehow figured out how to avoid. But if you listen to athletes or anyone performing at a high level, pressure isn’t optional. It’s the environment.
No one at the top is trying to eliminate it. They’re training for it.
And I think the same is true for founders and brands who are actually going to do well this year.
The ones who grow, who make more money, who feel more solid by the end of the year, they won’t be the ones trying to keep everything light and calm and consequence-free. They’ll be the ones who stop interpreting pressure as a problem and start treating it as part of the job.
Pressure isn’t the enemy. Avoiding pressure is.
You can dodge pressure for a while, but it doesn’t disappear. It just shows up differently… second-guessing, hesitation, resentment, and that constant background noise of uncertainty.
And I’ve observed that noise is far more exhausting than the weight we’re usually trying to avoid.
You’re allowed to want a spacious life. You’re allowed to want ease and you’re also allowed to want more money, more growth & impact. The work isn’t eliminating pressure, it’s becoming someone who can carry it without backing away from yourself.
Make peace with pressure.
If you’ve been telling yourself you’re confused, ask yourself what pressure you might be negotiating instead. What would change if you decided not because everything feels clear, but because you trust yourself to handle what comes next?
Because the moment you stop hiding behind confusion, things don’t just move faster. You feel steadier, more grounded and that’s usually when the money starts to follow.
The founders who make more money this year won’t be the ones avoiding pressure. They’ll be the ones who stopped treating it like something to escape and started letting it strengthen them.