Why You Feel Stuck in Life (It's Not What You Think)

Feeling stuck isn't always about lacking motivation or purpose. Sometimes it's because you're still trying to live as the person you used to be.

In this episode of From Drift to Direction, I share personal stories from my career, investing, traveling, coaching, and launching businesses—and the surprising realization that changed how I think about success, identity, and personal growth.

If you've ever wondered:

• Why do I feel stuck in life?
 • Why doesn't success feel the way I expected?
 • How do I reinvent myself?
 • How do I overcome imposter syndrome?
 • How do I find purpose again?

then this episode is for you.

You'll also leave with three practical actions you can take this week to stop living according to an outdated identity and start becoming the person you're meant to be.

If this episode resonated with you, subscribe, leave a review, and share it with someone who's ready for their next chapter.

🎙️ From Drift to Direction is a podcast about purpose, mindset, personal growth, career transitions, financial freedom, and creating a life that feels aligned—not just successful.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Hi everyone and welcome back to From Drift to Direction So I was flying home from a sales meeting a few weeks ago. I'm standing at the gate and this woman taps me on the shoulder. I'm sorry, but you smell really good, that's what she said. I instantly laughed. I wasn't expecting that. Thanks. I pointed to a new fragrance that we are launching next month. We talked for a minute, easy conversation, nothing special. Then she asked, So what do you do? And I froze. Not because I didn't know, because I genuinely didn't know which answer to give. Do I say regional sales manager, a real estate investor, a podcaster, a life coach, travel company owner? And the weird thing is none of them felt wrong, but none of them felt complete either. I have been thinking about that moment a lot since then, because it was not just awkward, it was revealing. I was not confused about what I do, I was confused about which version of myself I was supposed to present. And I started wondering how many of us are walking around like that, carrying all these different versions of ourselves around, wondering which one actually gets to exist in the world, not sure which one is the real us. I have been wondering if maybe the thing that keeps people stuck is not really about not knowing what they want. It's more like we feel like we have to stay loyal to who we used to be, like we owe it to ourselves or something. And that loyalty, it just keeps us from becoming anything different. Maybe that's not it. But standing there at the airport, that's what I felt. Like I was supposed to pick one version of myself and stick with it. And I honestly I couldn't. So that's what I have been sitting with lately. What happens when you give yourself permission to evolve? What happens when you stop expecting yourself to stay the same? Let me tell you what I have been noticing. So let me start with a story about what happens when you finally become the thing you thought would complete you. A few years ago I became original sales manager. I need you to understand this was the big promotion. The one I had been working toward for years. I had spent years grinding for this moment, early mornings, late nights, optimizing everything. So when I finally got the call I remember thinking, okay, this is going to change everything. This is going to change my whole life. Like I genuinely believed that once I had this title, I would feel somehow different, more confident, more certain, more complete. I thought I would wake up on the Monday morning and just know I had made it. And then Monday morning actually showed up. I'm sitting at my desk, coffee in hand, ready to step into my new identity as original manager. I opened my inbox, thirty seven unread emails, and I remember sitting there, scrolling through this endless list, thinking, wait, this is it. Like I had spent years working toward this moment, and the big reveal was more emails. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do. I have learned so much from managing teams and building strategies and leading people. But I think I expected it to, I don't know, complete me or something. Like I thought becoming original manager would answer some question I didn't even know I was asking. And it didn't. It just gave me a bigger territory and a lot more emails. So here's what I learned. A title gives you responsibility. It gives you the authority. But it doesn't give you I don't know, whatever it is you think it's supposed to give you. That was the thing I didn't expect. Here's another one. Couple years ago, I closed on an investment property. It had taken months. Closing day arrives, I'm signing papers, initial here, sign here, then I walk out to my car, I sit down in the driver's seat, engine off. I just sit there waiting to feel something, excitement, relief, pride. That moment where it clicks and you think yes, this is it. And all I can think is cool, another mortgage payment. I realized that night that money doesn't fill the void, you think it will. These versions of me were supposed to be chapters, not the whole book. I was in Rome a few years ago at a coffee shop, I sat next to an older man. He was just sitting there, watching the street, sipping his coffee, not working, not checking his phone, just being present. And I remember thinking, how does he have time for this? It was the middle of the week. But he looked content. At some point he caught me staring at him and smiled. He raised his cup a little, I raised mine back. I had flown across an ocean, paid for a hotel, scheduled this trip months in advance. Just so I could sit at a coffee shop and do nothing. And this guy, he just lived here. This was his Tuesday, and I think about that a lot. I paid all this money to come here and figure out how to just sit with a coffee. And he just does it every day. So let me tell you about starting this podcast because I think this is where it gets vulnerable. I had been thinking about it for months, waiting for the right time, waiting until I felt qualified, but really I was just scared. When I finally decided to record the first episode, I sat at my desk with my laptop open, microphone plugged in, and I kept thinking, what if this is a mistake? What if people hear this and think, who does this guy think he is? I'm original manager, I sell products, I manage a team, I'm not a podcaster, I'm not a thought leader. I recorded that first episode probably five times. Each time I would get halfway through and stop. But eventually I got through it. I edited, I uploaded the file, and then I just sat there, staring at the publish button. My cursor was hovering over it. I would click and then pull back at the last second. Like my hand would not let me do it. And the whole time my brain is spiraling. What if people think I'm a fraud? What if they realize I don't actually have my life together? But then I thought about something else. I thought about all the conversations I had been having with friends, with people I coach, with myself, about feeling stuck, about not knowing what is next. And I realized if I'm having these conversations, other people probably are too. So I closed my eyes and I clicked publish. It was done. It was sent. A few days later, someone sent me a message. Someone I didn't know. They said they had listened to the episode and they said it made them feel less alone. And I just sat there, reading that message over and over. Because I realized something. I had been so focused on what people would think of me that I forgot why I wanted to do this at the first place. I didn't start this podcast because I had all the answers. I started it because I didn't. And I thought maybe there were other people out there who didn't either. They're just moments they feel huge when you're in them. But then you do the thing and you realize it was never about being perfect. It was about being willing to try. Same thing happened when I started coaching. People kept asking me to do it. And I kept saying no. I'm not a coach, I would say. But eventually I tried anyway. I got certified, built a website, started checking clients, and the imposter syndrome hit immediately. I remember my first client call. I'm terrified, thinking, what if they realize I have no idea what I'm talking about? How can I coach people about finding direction when I'm still figuring it out myself? But then I realize something. The best advice usually comes from people who are still in the middle of it. Not from some finished place, from the middle of it. And here's what I realize. The imposter syndrome never really goes away. I still feel it even now. I will be preparing for a coaching call and I will think, what if they ask me something I don't know? Or I will be recording a podcast episode and I will think, who am I to talk about this? But the difference is I don't let it stop me anymore. I used to think imposter syndrome meant I was not supposed to be doing something. Like it was a sign that I was in the wrong place. But now I realize imposter syndrome just means you're doing something that matters to you. It means you care. And the things that scare us most are usually pointing us towards something real. So yeah, I still get imposter syndrome, I just don't let it vote. And right now I'm launching a new business. Some days I feel like a visionary, some days I'm arguing about fabric samples. But that's the point, right? I'm not trying to have it all figured out. I'm just trying to give myself permission to keep evolving. So here's what I realized, and I think this is the thing that changed everything for me. You can appreciate who you have been without being limited by who you have been. Let me say that again. You can appreciate who you have been without being limited by who you have been. I'm still a regional manager. I still love my career. I'm still investing in real estate. And I still think it's one of the best things I have ever done. But I don't expect those things to be my entire identity anymore. And that shift that changed everything. Because I think a lot of people feel trapped, not because they don't know what they want, but because they feel obligated to stay loyal to an older version of themselves. Like I have a friend who has been talking about leaving his corporate job for three years. Three years. And every time we talk, he has a new reason why now is not the right time. But the real reason, he told me once after a few drinks, he said, Everyone knows me as the guy who made it. I have the title, I have the salary. If I leave now, what does that say about me? And I get it. Because I felt that way too. Alright, think about this woman I coached last year. She wanted to go back to school. She was in her forties. She had this whole plan, but she kept saying, I'm not a student. That's not who I am anymore. And I remember asking her, who says? And she just looked at me. Because the truth is, no one said it. She said it. She decided that going back to school would mean she failed the first time. That it would mean she wasted 20 years. That it would mean she was not who she thought she was. It's not that they don't want to change. It's that changing would feel like betrayal. Betrayal of who they have been, betrayal of what people expect, betrayal of the story they have been telling. And I think that is where drift really begins. I think people drift because they outgrow an identity, but they are afraid to let it go. But we call it being true to ourselves. They stay in the same job that is draining them because I'm the responsible one who doesn't take risks. They don't start the business because I'm not an entrepreneur, I'm an employee. They don't leave the city because I'm a New Yorker or I'm from here. They don't change their lifestyle because I'm the person who goes out, or I'm the person who says yes to everything. The drift is not passive. It's active resistance disguised as identity. You're not stuck because you don't know what to do. You're stuck because doing what you need to do will require becoming someone different. And that feels scary. So let me ask you something. And you don't have to answer out loud. Just think about it. What part of you have you outgrown? Like really? What version of yourself are you still trying to be? Even though you know it doesn't fit anymore? Maybe it's the version of you that thought success meant climbing the ladder. Maybe it's the version of you that thought you had to have it all figured out by now. Maybe it's the version of you that thought you were not allowed to change your mind. I don't know what it is for you, but I think we all have at least one version of ourselves that we're still carrying around, even though it expired a long time ago. And here's another question. What would change if you stopped expecting yourself to stay the same? Most of the time, nobody's enforcing those rules but us. And not in some dramatic blow up your life kind of way. Just what if you gave yourself permission to evolve, to try something new, to admit you have changed, to let go of the identity that is not serving you anymore. What would that look like? Alright, so I want to share three things I have been trying lately, not because I have it all figured out, but because maybe they will help you too. Number one, pay attention to how you introduce yourself, not to other people, to yourself. Do you constantly describe yourself using the old identity? I'm bad with money, I'm shy, I'm just an employee, I'm too old. Notice it, because the way you talk to yourself shapes who you become. Number two, ask yourself one question every Sunday. What part of me have I outgrown? That's it. Don't answer immediately. Just sit with it. Let the question do its work. Number three. Do one thing this week your old identity wouldn't do it. Apply for something, take a class, say no, say yes. Wear something different, whatever. Just give your future self one vote. You know what is funny? I keep thinking about that woman at the airport, the one who asked me what I do. I can still see her standing there, gate forty seven, late afternoon light coming through those massive windows. She's smiling, waiting for my answer, so what do you do? And I froze, because I didn't know which version of me to give her. But if she asked me today, I think I would answer differently. I would probably say I do a lot of things, but none of them are who I am. They're just expressions of who I am becoming. And maybe that sounds like I still don't have an answer, but I think that's the point. I think the question was never really about my job. It was about whether I was willing to keep evolving. Whether I was willing to become someone I didn't recognize yet. And honestly, I don't know what I will be doing in ten years. Maybe this podcast is still around, maybe my new business venture becomes something real. Maybe I have another crazy idea by then, and that wouldn't surprise me at all. What I do know is I don't want fear to decide who I become. I would rather look back and laugh at the things I tried than spend the rest of my life wondering who I could have been if I had just given myself permission to evolve. Thank you for staying with me for this episode and hope to see you in the next one.