Overcoming challenges is basically my full-time job at this point and I’m still terrible at it half the time. Right now I’m sitting in my messy apartment in [redacted], North Carolina, it’s 35°F outside, the radiator is clanking like it’s auditioning for a horror movie, and I’m staring at a cold coffee that’s been sitting here since 9 a.m. because I keep getting distracted by the giant “URGENT” Post-it note screaming at me from the monitor. Anyway. If you’re here because life keeps throwing bricks at your head, welcome. I’ve collected a few things that—sometimes—actually help me stop lying face-down on the floor and get back up.
Why Overcoming Challenges Feels So Damn Personal
Because it is. Last summer I lost a client that was paying 60% of my bills, my transmission died on I-85 at 2 a.m., and my dog got diagnosed with lymphoma all within eleven days. I distinctly remember sitting in the vet’s parking lot eating gas-station taquitos and googling “how to declare bankruptcy and still look cool.” Not my finest moment. But those eleven days forced me to figure out some stuff that textbooks and LinkedIn gurus never mention.
Here are the seven things I keep coming back to when everything goes sideways.
1. Admit the Suck Out Loud (Seriously, Say It)
The fastest way to start overcoming challenges is to stop pretending they’re “character-building opportunities.” They suck. Say it. Text your group chat “today can eat my entire ass” or scream it into a pillow. I started doing this after I read something on Atomic Habits by James Clear about how naming emotions reduces their intensity. Sounds hippie, but it works. When I finally told my best friend “I’m actually terrified I’m going to end up living in my car,” the panic dropped maybe 30%. Weirdly specific number, but that’s what it felt like.
2. Shrink the Monster (Micro-Wins Only for a While)
When the whole mountain looks unclimbable, I make the goal stupidly small. Like “open laptop” small. Or “drink one glass of water instead of crying.” Last month I couldn’t write for three weeks straight—total creative death spiral. So I told myself “just open a blank Google Doc.” That’s it. Opened it 14 days in a row before I wrote a single word. Sounds pathetic. Worked anyway. Check out BJ Fogg’s Tiny Habits if you want the science version.
3. Borrow Someone Else’s Brain for 10 Minutes
When my own thoughts are just looping panic, I call or text someone who’s already survived the thing I’m scared of. Not for advice necessarily—just to hear “yeah I thought I was gonna die too but I didn’t.” Hearing it from a real human who’s still breathing is stupidly powerful. There’s a reason support groups exist.
4. Move Your Body Even When You Hate Everything
Not gym-bro motivation crap. I mean walk to the mailbox, do ten push-ups against the kitchen counter, dance badly to one bad pop song. Last week I was spiraling so hard I put on “Sweet Caroline” at full volume and jumped around like an idiot for three minutes. Neighbors probably hate me. Cortisol went down, though. Science backs it: movement literally reduces anxiety.
5. Write the Worst-Case Scenario—Then Laugh at It
I keep a “disaster document” in my Notes app. When I’m convinced everything is over, I write the absolute most dramatic version: “I’ll be homeless, dogless, toothless, eating ramen out of a dumpster behind Waffle House.” Then I read it back and usually start laughing because it’s so over-the-top. Turns out most disasters are survivable. Stoicism people have been doing this for 2,000 years.
6. Collect Tiny Proof You’re Not Useless
Screenshot texts from friends saying they love you, save nice client emails, take a picture of the one plant that hasn’t died yet. When imposter syndrome hits I literally scroll through my “proof I’m not trash” folder. It’s embarrassing. It’s also lifesaving.
7. Accept That Some Days You Just Survive—and That Counts
Some days overcoming challenges just means brushing your teeth, feeding the dog, and not texting your ex at 1 a.m. That’s victory. Full stop. I used to think resilience meant looking like a motivational poster. Nah. Sometimes it looks like crying in the shower then going to bed at 8:30. Both are fine.
