When Life Feels Like Too Much: The Pressures of Young Adulthood

There has been growing discussion in the UK about the mental health of younger people and the pressures they are experiencing. A recent BBC report exploring these questions has brought some of this debate into the wider public conversation. Some of this discussion has been framed around the idea of a “snowflake generation”; a suggestion that younger people may be less resilient than previous generations. But perhaps there is another question worth asking: What if the issue is not simply that young people are less able to cope, but that they are trying to cope with more?

An independent review into mental health, ADHD and autism, chaired by Professor Peter Fonagy, has found evidence that psychological distress has increased particularly among younger people. The review identifies increases in emotional symptoms, loneliness, sleep difficulties, loss of confidence and difficulties concentrating. Importantly, it also emphasises that the reasons for these changes are complex and cannot be explained by one factor alone. This is something I increasingly recognise in my work with younger clients. They may be studying, starting work, building careers, developing relationships and trying to establish an independent life. From the outside, they may appear to be managing. Yet underneath, there can be a persistent sense of pressure; a feeling that they should be further ahead, coping better or somehow more certain about who they are and where they are going. Sometimes life simply feels like too much.

The pressure of becoming an adult

Young adulthood has always involved uncertainty. There has always been the transition from education into work, the development of relationships, financial independence and the gradual discovery of who we are. But these processes are taking place within a very different social environment. University students and graduates may be thinking about their future while facing uncertainty about employment and finances. Those entering the workplace may feel pressure to establish themselves quickly. Social media can provide connection while simultaneously exposing us to other people’s achievements, relationships and lifestyles. News and information are available continuously. There can be very little sense of being completely tuned out. The result can be a strange contradiction. There are more possibilities than ever, yet choosing between them can feel overwhelming. There is more information, yet knowing what to trust can feel difficult. We are constantly connected, yet many young people report feeling lonely. And there can be an increasing expectation to know what we want from life at precisely the age when we are still discovering it.

When external expectations become internal pressure

Perhaps one of the most significant psychological effects of living within this environment is what happens when external expectations become internal ones. A young person may hear messages about success, independence, productivity and achievement from many different directions. Over time, these messages can become an internal voice: I should be doing more. I should have a better job by now. I should know what I want. Everyone else seems to be managing. I should be happier. I shouldn’t find this so difficult.

What began as an expectation from outside can gradually become something we expect from ourselves. This can be particularly difficult when self-worth becomes connected to performance. Not getting the job becomes I am not good enough. Struggling at university becomes I am failing.

Needing time away from work becomes I am lazy. Not knowing what career to pursue becomes I am falling behind. The difficulty is no longer simply the situation itself. It becomes what the situation appears to say about us.

The comparison we cannot switch off

Social media is often identified as one of the pressures affecting younger people, and it is important not to oversimplify this. Social media can provide friendship, community, creativity and support. But it can also create an environment in which we are continually exposed to other people’s lives. We see the promotion, not the uncertainty before it. The relationship, not necessarily the difficulties within it. The achievement, not the years of effort behind it. The finished product, not the unfinished process.

Comparison can therefore become psychologically complicated. We may compare our everyday reality with somebody else’s carefully selected moments. And when we are already uncertain about ourselves, another person’s apparent success can become evidence of our own inadequacy.

When coping becomes another expectation

There is another pressure that is perhaps less obvious. We are increasingly encouraged to be resilient, practise self-care, regulate our emotions and develop healthy coping strategies. These are valuable things. But what happens when coping itself becomes another measure of whether we are doing well?

A person may already be exhausted by work, study, financial worries or relationship difficulties. They may then become anxious because they are not coping with those difficulties in the “right” way. They are not simply struggling. They feel that they are failing at struggling well. This can create another layer of self-criticism. Why can’t I manage this? What is wrong with me?

In therapy, this distinction can be important. The question is not simply, “How can I cope better?” Sometimes it is also: “What have I actually been trying to cope with?”

Loss of psychological space

One of the things we can lose when life becomes demanding is psychological space. There is a difference between being physically alone and having enough internal space to notice what we think and feel. If the day moves from university or work to messages, social media, responsibilities, social expectations and the pressure to make decisions about the future, there may be very little opportunity simply to stop. Without that space, it can become difficult to distinguish between our own wishes and the expectations we have absorbed from other people.

We may know what we should want. But do we know what we actually want? We may know what would look successful. But does it feel meaningful to us?

We may be pursuing a particular future because it is what we have learned to associate with being successful, secure or valued. And sometimes therapy provides the first real opportunity to step back from all of that and ask: What is mine?

Resilience is not equal to suffering in silence

There is an understandable desire to encourage young people to become resilient. But resilience should not mean becoming endlessly capable of carrying pressure without being affected by it. Sometimes resilience involves recognising that something is not working. Sometimes it means asking for help. Sometimes it means setting a boundary. Sometimes it means accepting that we do not yet know what comes next. And sometimes it means questioning an expectation rather than automatically trying harder to meet it. This is not about removing personal responsibility. In fact, greater self-awareness can increase our sense of responsibility because it allows us to make more conscious choices. The important distinction is between choosing our direction and simply responding to everything that is being asked of us.

Which expectations genuinely belong to me?

Growing into adulthood is not a test that we are supposed to pass by a particular age. It is a process of becoming. There will be uncertainty, mistakes, changes of direction and periods when we feel that we are not where we thought we would be. That does not necessarily mean we are failing. Psychotherapy can offer a space to explore the difference between the expectations we have inherited and the values we genuinely hold; between the voice of the inner critic and our own perspective; between what we think we should be and who we are actually becoming. Perhaps the most useful question is therefore not: Why can’t I cope with everything? But: Which of these expectations genuinely belong to me?

Because sometimes life feels like too much not because there is something wrong with us, but because we have become so accustomed to carrying expectations that we have stopped asking whether they were ever ours to carry.

If life is feeling like too much

If you recognise something of yourself in this article, you do not have to wait until things become overwhelming before seeking support. Talking with a therapist can provide a quiet, confidential space to step back from the pressures around you, understand what is happening beneath them, and begin to work out what genuinely matters to you. Therapy is not about telling you what choices to make. It can offer a space to become clearer about your own thoughts, feelings, needs and values, so that you can begin to make those choices for yourself.

Collette O Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

When Attachment Styles Meet: The Relationship Beneath the Relationship

We often think about relationships in terms of what we can see. One person wants more closeness. The other wants more space. One needs reassurance. The other becomes frustrated by the need for reassurance. One wants to talk about what has happened. The other shuts down. One feels ignored. The other feels pressured. On the surface, these can look like communication problems. But beneath the conversation, something else may be taking place.

Attachment can influence not only how we relate to another person, but how we experience ourselves within a relationship; whether we feel secure enough to express our needs, whether distance feels threatening, whether closeness feels comforting or overwhelming, and how quickly we interpret another person’s behaviour as a sign that something is wrong. This is where understanding attachment can take us beyond the question, Which attachment style am I? A more useful question may be: What happens between us when our attachment patterns meet?

Attachment is activated in relationship

Attachment is not simply a label we carry around with us. Our early experiences can contribute to expectations about relationships; whether other people are available, whether our needs will be noticed, whether closeness is safe, and whether we can remain ourselves while being emotionally connected to someone else. These expectations can remain outside our conscious awareness until a relationship activates them. A delayed message may therefore become more than a delayed message. A partner needing time alone may feel like rejection. A request for reassurance may feel like pressure. A change in someone’s tone of voice may be experienced as a warning that something is wrong. The reaction can seem disproportionate to the event because the emotional response is not necessarily coming from the event alone. The present situation may have touched something much older. This is one reason relationships can sometimes feel confusing. We may know intellectually that something is relatively small, yet emotionally it can feel much bigger.

The subliminal communication pattern

This connects with something I explored in my earlier article, The Conversation Beneath the Conversation. What we say to each other is not always the whole communication. A disagreement about spending time together may contain a deeper question: Do I matter to you? A disagreement about needing space may contain: Can I have some independence without losing the relationship? A disagreement about commitment may contain: Can I trust that you will still be here?

Beneath a strong reaction to another person’s needs there may be an equally important question: Can I be close to someone without losing myself?

These questions are not always consciously spoken. Sometimes they are communicated through behaviour instead. We may pursue, withdraw, become defensive, become overly accommodating, seek reassurance, become controlling, shut down or avoid difficult conversations. The behaviour may make sense when we understand what it is trying to protect.

When protection meets protection

One of the difficulties in relationships is that two people can be trying to feel safe in completely different ways. Imagine someone who becomes anxious when they sense emotional distance. Their instinct may be to move towards the other person; to talk, ask questions, seek reassurance or try to resolve the uncertainty. Now imagine that the other person experiences emotional intensity as overwhelming. Their instinct may be to create space; to become quiet, withdraw, delay the conversation or retreat into themselves. Each person is attempting to regulate their own discomfort. But their protective responses can inadvertently activate the other person’s. The more one person seeks closeness, the more the other may feel the need for space. The more the other withdraws, the more the first person may feel the need to seek reassurance.

A cycle begins:

Distance → anxiety → pursuit → pressure → withdrawal → greater anxiety → further pursuit.

At some point, the original issue may almost disappear. The relationship is now responding to the pattern itself. Neither person necessarily intended to create it. Neither may understand why the same argument keeps happening. And both may feel that the other person is the problem.

When our interpretation becomes part of the pattern

Attachment can also influence the meaning we give to another person’s behaviour. This is important because we do not respond only to what happens. We respond to what we believe what happens means. A partner becoming quiet might mean: “They need some time to think.”

Or it might mean: They are losing interest in me.

A partner wanting an evening alone might mean: They value their independence. Or: “They don’t want to be with me.”

Someone asking for reassurance might mean: They are feeling vulnerable and want connection. Or: Nothing I do will ever be enough.

The behaviour may be the same; the internal meaning can be very different. This is why developing awareness of our own attachment responses can be so valuable. It creates a small space between what happens and what we immediately believe it means. Within that space, something different becomes possible.

Secure attachment is not perfect attachment

It can be tempting to think of secure attachment as the absence of insecurity, conflict or difficult emotions. Real relationships are rarely that simple. Even someone who generally experiences relationships as secure can feel jealous, rejected, frightened, angry or overwhelmed. The difference is not necessarily whether we become activated; it is what happens when we do. Can I recognise that something has been triggered in me? Can I pause before reacting? Can I distinguish what I know from what I fear? Can I communicate my experience without assuming I know what the other person is thinking? Can I allow my partner to have a different perspective without experiencing that difference as a threat to the relationship?

And perhaps most importantly: Can we repair?

A healthy relationship does not require two people to get everything right. It requires enough emotional safety for both people to acknowledge when something has gone wrong and find their way back to one another.

Staying connected without losing yourself

There is another dimension to attachment that is sometimes overlooked. Attachment is not only about how securely we connect with another person. It can also influence how securely we remain connected to ourselves. Some people become highly attuned to the needs, feelings and expectations of those around them. They may become so focused on maintaining harmony that their own preferences gradually become difficult to recognise. Others may protect themselves through emotional distance. Independence becomes so important that vulnerability can feel uncomfortable or even unsafe.

In both situations, an important question can become lost: What am I actually feeling, thinking or needing?

Being in a relationship does not require us to abandon ourselves. Nor does maintaining ourselves require emotional distance from others. A mature relationship allows both people to exist. I can be close to you and still be me. You can be different from me and I can remain secure in myself.

You can have your needs and I can have mine.

This is part of what makes emotional intimacy possible.

Moving from reaction towards awareness

Understanding attachment is not about deciding which person is anxious, which person is avoidant, or who is responsible for the problems within a relationship. It is about becoming curious about the pattern. When something happens, we might begin by asking: What happened? Then: What did I immediately believe it meant? What did I feel? What did I want to do? What was I trying to protect? And perhaps: What might my response have communicated to the other person?

This does not mean taking responsibility for another person’s behaviour. It means becoming more aware of our own part in the interaction. Awareness gives us choices that automatic reaction does not. We may discover that underneath anger there is fear. Underneath withdrawal there may be vulnerability. Underneath the need for reassurance there may be a longing to feel valued. Underneath the need for distance there may be a need to feel autonomous and emotionally safe. The behaviour is not the whole story. There is usually a relationship beneath the relationship.

We bring our history into relationships, but we are not confined by it

Our early relationships can influence the expectations and protective patterns we bring into adult relationships. But attachment is not a life sentence. Awareness can change the way we understand ourselves. A person who once automatically pursued may learn to pause and communicate their need more directly. A person who habitually withdrew may learn that remaining present during difficult conversations does not necessarily mean losing themselves. Two people may begin to recognise the cycle they have been caught in rather than continuing to fight each other from within it. This is where psychotherapy can offer something particularly valuable. Rather than simply asking “Why do I behave like this?”, therapy can help us become curious about the experiences, meanings and emotional patterns beneath our behaviour. Over time, we can begin to recognise the moment when an old expectation enters a present relationship. And perhaps that is where change begins. Not by becoming a different person. Not by achieving perfect security. But by becoming sufficiently aware to notice: Something has been activated in me. And from there, we can begin to ask: What belongs to the past, what belongs to the present, and how would I like to respond now? Because the goal of understanding attachment is not to find the perfect attachment style. It is to develop a greater capacity for connection; with another person, and with ourselves.

Collette O Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

The Conversation Beneath the Conversation: How Attachment Styles Shape Our Relationships

Many of the difficulties we experience in relationships are not really about what appears to be happening on the surface. A couple may argue about how often someone texts. A parent and adult child may disagree about how often they see one another. Friends may fall out because one person has become quieter or more distant. The conversation may appear to be about messages, time, attention or behaviour. But beneath the conversation can be deeper questions:

Are you still there for me? Can I depend on you? Do I matter to you?

Attachment theory offers one way of understanding why two people can experience the same interaction so differently. Our attachment patterns can influence what we notice, what we fear and, perhaps most importantly, what we believe another person’s behaviour means. The same words can create very different emotional responses depending on the attachment system listening to them.

When the Anxious Person Reaches for Connection

Someone with an anxious attachment pattern may be particularly sensitive to changes in closeness or connection. A delayed message, a different tone of voice or a partner becoming quieter than usual can quickly activate fears of rejection or abandonment. The difficulty is that the underlying need for reassurance does not always emerge as reassurance-seeking.

Instead of saying, “I’m feeling disconnected from you and I need some reassurance,” the person may ask: “Why haven’t you called me?”

The other person may hear criticism, pressure or accusation. But beneath the words may be something much more vulnerable where the anxious person needs to know they still matter to you. When this need is not understood, both people can become increasingly frustrated. One person believes they are asking for connection, while the other believes they are being criticised.

When the Avoidant Person Creates Distance

Someone with an avoidant attachment pattern may respond to emotional intensity in a very different way. Where one person moves towards connection when distressed, another may move away. They may become quiet during conflict. They may need time alone to think. They may withdraw when conversations become emotionally intense or feel uncomfortable with being expected to immediately express what they are feeling. To someone with an anxious attachment pattern, this distance can feel like rejection. They think the other person is shutting them out or has lost interest in the relationship. Whereas the avoidant person’s internal experience may be very different. They feel overwhelmed and need space to regain a sense of control.

The difficulty is that the distance intended as protection can be experienced by the other person as abandonment. Again, two people may be responding to the same situation while having entirely different emotional experiences.

The Anxious-Avoidant Dance

Perhaps one of the most recognisable attachment patterns occurs when anxious and avoidant responses meet. One person senses distance and moves closer. The other experiences that closeness as pressure and moves away. The greater the distance, the more anxious the first person becomes. The greater the pursuit, the more overwhelmed the second person feels. Both become increasingly convinced that the other is the problem. The anxious person may think that the more the other person withdraws, the more they need to reach out. Whereas the avoidant person may think that the more they are pursued, the more they need to escape. Neither person is necessarily trying to hurt the other. Yet both may be unintentionally activating the other’s deepest fears. The cycle itself becomes the problem.

Recognising this can be an important turning point in a relationship. Instead of asking Who is right?, both people can begin asking: What is happening between us?

When Fear Pulls in Two Directions

Fearful-avoidant attachment can create an additional layer of complexity. The person may deeply desire closeness while simultaneously fearing it. They may long for intimacy and reassurance, yet become uncomfortable when someone gets emotionally close. Their experience can sometimes feel like abandonment, or they require distance to feel safe. This can be confusing for partners, family members and friends. The person’s behaviour may appear inconsistent because they are caught between two powerful needs: the desire for connection and the need for protection. They may move towards someone and then suddenly withdraw. They may want reassurance but struggle to trust it when it is offered. Understanding this pattern does not mean excusing difficult behaviour. It means recognising that what appears inconsistent on the outside may reflect an internal struggle between closeness and safety.

What Secure Attachment Brings to Communication

Secure attachment does not mean never feeling anxious, hurt or afraid. It does not mean having perfect relationships or never experiencing conflict. What it can offer is a greater ability to experience difficulty without immediately assuming that the relationship itself is under threat. Someone with a more secure attachment pattern may be better able to communicate the experience beneath their reaction.

Instead of:  You never care about me, try I’ve been feeling disconnected from you lately.

Instead of disappearing during conflict, they might say: I’m upset and need some time to think, but I want to come back to this conversation.

Secure communication does not prevent misunderstanding. It makes repair more possible.

Attachment Is Not Just About Romantic Relationships

Although attachment is often discussed in relation to couples, these patterns can also appear in families and friendships. One friend may need frequent communication to feel connected, while another may feel perfectly secure speaking less often. An adult child may seek greater emotional closeness with a parent who responds by becoming distant. A sibling’s independence may be interpreted by another as rejection. Neither person’s needs are necessarily wrong. The difficulty often begins when we assume that another person experiences connection in the same way that we do. We can easily mistake difference for rejection. We can mistake someone’s need for space as a lack of love. Or mistake someone’s need for reassurance as an attempt to control us. Attachment awareness invites us to become more curious about the meaning beneath behaviour.

From Blame to Understanding

The value of understanding attachment patterns is not in giving ourselves or others another label. We are not simply anxious, avoidant or secure people who must remain that way forever. Attachment patterns can be influenced by relationships, experiences and greater self-awareness. Beneath criticism may be a need for reassurance. Beneath withdrawal may be overwhelm. Beneath anger may be fear. Beneath distance may be a need for safety.

When we begin to hear the conversation beneath the conversation, relationships can become less about defending ourselves and more about understanding what is happening between us. Because beneath many of our conflicts is a deeply human question: Can I be close to you and still feel safe?

Further Reading

If you would like to explore attachment theory and the four commonly discussed adult attachment patterns in more detail, The Attachment Project offers accessible resources and further information on attachment theory and relationships.

Collette O’Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

When Love Becomes Conditional

How Conditions of Worth Shape the Self

Many people come into therapy believing that they have a problem with confidence or self-esteem. They may describe themselves as people-pleasers, perfectionists or chronic overthinkers. They may struggle to make decisions without reassurance, feel deeply affected by criticism or become anxious at the thought of disappointing someone. Often, they are highly capable people. They may be successful, responsible and caring. Yet beneath these qualities can lie a fragile and persistent question: Am I still good enough?

For some people, self-worth does not feel like something they naturally possess. It feels like something that must continually be earned. This experience can be understood through the work of the humanistic psychologist Carl Rogers and his concept of Conditions of Worth. These are the often-unconscious beliefs we develop about what we need to be, do or feel in order to be accepted, loved or valued. Over time, they can become so deeply embedded within us that we no longer recognise them as beliefs. They simply become part of who we think we are.

The Seeds of Conditional Worth

We are not born questioning whether our feelings are acceptable. A young child experiences the world directly. They feel anger, sadness, excitement, fear and joy. They have needs, preferences and impulses. Their experience simply arises. But as children grow, they begin to learn something important about relationships. Some parts of them appear to be welcomed, while others are not. A child may discover that happiness is encouraged, but sadness makes others uncomfortable. Being helpful may bring praise, while expressing anger brings criticism. Achievement may receive attention, while mistakes bring disappointment.

Sometimes these messages are spoken directly but more often, the message is communicated indirectly through approval, criticism, disappointment or emotional withdrawal. Gradually, the child begins to organise themselves around what appears to be acceptable. The unconscious question becomes less What am I feeling? and more What am I allowed to feel? This is where the seeds of conditional worth can begin.

When Inner Experience Conflicts with the Self-Concept

Carl Rogers believed that psychological difficulty can arise when there is a growing disparity between our actual inner experience and the self-concept we have developed. Our inner experience is continually changing, but alongside it we carry beliefs about who we think we should be. There is nothing wrong with having a sense of identity. The difficulty arises when our idea of who we should be becomes so rigid that certain experiences are no longer permitted to belong to us. A person may feel angry but believe that good people do not get angry. They may feel exhausted but believe that strong people do not struggle. They may want to leave a relationship but believe that loyalty means staying. Their actual experience and their learned self-concept begin to pull in different directions. Rogers described this disparity as incongruence.

When Feelings Become Unacceptable

When feelings conflict with our Conditions of Worth, we may learn to suppress them in order to protect ourselves from rejection. This is not simply a weakness or a failure to face reality. For a child, belonging and acceptance are deeply important. If expressing a particular feeling appears to threaten connection, the child may learn that the feeling itself is unsafe. The unconscious message becomes: If this part of me threatens acceptance, then this part of me must be hidden.

The feeling does not necessarily disappear. Instead, it may become disconnected from conscious awareness or emerge in another form. Anger may be turned inward and experienced as anxiety. Resentment may become guilt. Disappointment may become self-criticism. Needs may become shame. Over time, a person can become increasingly disconnected from their own internal experience. They may know what everyone else needs but struggle to recognise their own needs. They may constantly ask others for reassurance because they no longer fully trust their own judgement. Their sense of value becomes increasingly dependent upon external approval.

Why Conditional Self-Worth Feels So Fragile

Instead of asking What feels right or true for me? A person may increasingly ask What will other people think? Will they approve? Will they be disappointed?

This is one of the reasons self-esteem becomes so fragile. When our worth depends upon meeting particular conditions, we may feel secure when we are successful, helpful, productive or in control. But when we make a mistake, disappoint someone or fail to meet an expectation, our sense of worth can quickly collapse. The difference between ‘I made a mistake’ and ‘I am a failure’ becomes blurred. Someone else’s disappointment can feel like proof that we are a disappointing person. Being unable to cope can become evidence that we are weak. Conditional self-worth means that we are constantly required to maintain our value. There is little opportunity to simply be human.

How Conditions of Worth Continue into Adult Life

These early patterns can continue long into adulthood. The person who cannot say ‘no’ may have learned that being good means being accommodating. The person who constantly achieves may have learned that approval comes through performance. The person who takes responsibility for everyone else’s emotions may have learned that keeping others happy is necessary for emotional safety. Different patterns can emerge from different experiences, but beneath them may lie a similar fear: What will happen if I stop being who I believe I need to be?

The difficulty is that the person may continue living according to conditions that were formed long before they had the ability to question them. They may still be trying to be the good child.

Moving Towards Self-Acceptance and Self-Trust

The journey towards greater self-acceptance begins with becoming curious about these conditions. We can begin to notice the rules we unconsciously live by and ask where they came from. What did I learn I had to be in order to be accepted? What feelings did I learn were unacceptable? What happens inside me when I disappoint someone? Whose voice tells me who I should be?

Gradually, we can begin to move from looking outside ourselves for constant evaluation towards developing a greater trust in our own experience. This does not mean that we stop caring about others or become indifferent to their feelings.

Relationships will always involve consideration and compromise. But another person’s approval no longer has to be the sole authority on who we are. Perhaps one of the most important discoveries is that a feeling can be acknowledged without defining us. Feeling angry does not make us a bad person. Feeling tired does not make us weak. Having needs does not make us selfish. Making a mistake does not make us a failure.

We can learn to change without rejecting ourselves. We can disappoint someone without becoming a disappointment. And perhaps self-worth becomes less fragile when we stop asking if we have done enough to deserve acceptance. Instead, we learn how to remain accepting of ourselves even when life does not go perfectly. One of the deepest forms of self-worth begins when we no longer feel that we must continually earn our right to accept ourselves.

Collette O’Mahony, (Dip.Psy.C) September 2026

Collette O’Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

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Moving from Control and Uncertainty to Self-Trust and Allowing

There is something deeply reassuring about feeling in control. When we know what is going to happen, what other people are thinking, how a situation will unfold and what we need to do next, life can feel more manageable. Control can give us the impression that we are protecting ourselves from uncertainty. But life does not offer us that kind of certainty.

People change. Relationships change. Circumstances change. Plans don’t always work out. Sometimes, despite everything we do to prepare, something unexpected happens. And when we don’t trust ourselves to cope with uncertainty, we can become increasingly focused on trying to control it.

When Control Becomes a Way of Feeling Safe

Control does not always look like controlling other people. It can happen entirely within us. We may overthink conversations, repeatedly check our decisions, seek reassurance, imagine every possible outcome, plan excessively, avoid situations where we might feel uncertain or constantly monitor how other people are responding to us. Underneath these behaviours there may be some beliefs that say: “If I can just work this out, I will feel safe.” “If I make the right decision, nothing will go wrong.” ” I don’t trust myself to deal with what happens if things go wrong.”

This is where control and self-trust become connected. Sometimes what looks like a need to control the future is actually a lack of trust in our ability to meet it.

The Beliefs We Carry

Our relationship with uncertainty is often shaped by what we have learned about ourselves and the world around us. If we have experienced situations where things felt unpredictable, we may become particularly sensitive to change. If we have learned that making mistakes leads to criticism or rejection, we may become afraid of making the wrong decision. If we have repeatedly relied on other people to tell us what is right, we may gradually lose confidence in our own judgement.

These experiences can form beliefs that we have poor coping strategies, that we make bad decisions, or if something goes wrong, we won’t know what to do.

These beliefs then influence our behaviour. We seek reassurance. We check. We analyse. We postpone decisions. We look outside ourselves for answers and each time we do this, we may experience a moment of relief. But the relief can come at a cost. We have not necessarily learned that we can tolerate uncertainty. We may instead have learned that we needed to remove the uncertainty before we could feel okay.

The Paradox of Control

This creates an interesting paradox. The more we try to control uncertainty, the less able we may feel to tolerate it. Our mind begins to believe that uncertainty means danger. So, when something changes, we immediately feel that we need to do something about it. We need certainty, we need reassurance.

Yet some of life’s most important experiences cannot be resolved through thinking harder. Sometimes there is no immediate answer, that another person’s feelings are outside our control. At times we have to make a decision without knowing exactly how it will turn out. And sometimes life simply asks us to wait.

Moving Towards Allowing

Allowing is not the same as giving up. It does not mean becoming passive or accepting situations that are harmful to us. It does not mean that we stop making decisions or stop taking responsibility for our lives. Allowing means making space for what is happening without immediately trying to control, suppress or resolve it.

It makes room for uncertainty and being okay with it. We stop trying to offer immediate resolutions and listen to the feeling. Similarly, we can listen to other people without needing to offer them advice, or asking them to decide for us. We can let a situation unfold while remaining connected to ourself.

There is something powerful about that shift. Instead of thinking how can we make sure everything will be okay; we begin asking can I trust myself to respond if things aren’t okay.

Rebuilding the Locus of Evaluation

This is also where our locus of evaluation becomes important. When we don’t trust ourselves, we can become overly dependent on external evaluation. We look to other people to tell us whether our feelings are valid, whether our decisions are right or whether we should stay, leave, speak, wait or change direction. Other people’s perspectives can be valuable. We don’t have to become completely independent of everyone else’s opinions. But there is a difference between listening to someone and handing them the authority to decide for us.

Self-trust begins to develop when we can listen to another person and still hear ourself. We can consider other opinions without abandoning our own. It’s okay to make a decision that someone else doesn’t agree with. This is not about always getting things right. It is about becoming increasingly able to follow your inner locus of evaluation. (see article Locus of Evaluation)

Self-Trust Is Built Through Experience

We cannot simply think ourselves into self-trust, it develops through experience. We make a decision and learn to live with the uncertainty that follows. When something doesn’t work out, we adapt. If we make a mistake, we learn. If someone is disappointed with us, we discover that we can tolerate their disappointment. A relationship changes and we discover that we can grieve, adjust and continue. Slowly, something begins to change. We develop evidence that we can cope and perhaps this is one of the most important differences between confidence and self-trust. Confidence can say: “I know I can do this.” Self-trust can say: “I don’t know exactly what will happen, but I trust myself to respond.” The second is far more useful when life becomes unpredictable.

You Don’t Have to Know What Happens Next

There will always be things we cannot control. We cannot control another person’s choices or control every outcome. We cannot prevent every disappointment or know exactly how our lives will unfold. But we can develop a different relationship with uncertainty. Instead of treating it as something that must immediately be eliminated, we can begin to see it as something we can experience. We can notice what we are feeling. We can consider what matters to us. We make the best decision we can with the information that is available to us. Then we can allow life to respond.

Self-trust is not about believing that we will always make the right decision. Perhaps it is trusting that if we make the wrong decision, we can learn. If something changes, we can adapt. If something hurts, we can allow ourselves to feel it. If life takes us somewhere we didn’t expect, we can find our way again.

We don’t need certainty before we move forward. Sometimes, we need something deeper. The trust that whatever life brings, we can trust ourselves to meet it.

Collette O’Mahony (Dip.Psy.C) August 2026

Collette O’Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

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