Chronic Contemplation: When Overthinking Feels Like Progress
Feeling stuck—even though you think about change all the time?
If you’re a high-performer or perfectionist, you probably do your homework. You read, compare, make plans, talk to others, and wait for the “right” time. That diligence is a strength—until it creates an experience of being stuck.
Often clients tell me, “I’ve been thinking and talking about this change for months or years, but I never seem to make it. How do I get unstuck?”
This “stuck” place can feel incredibly frustrating. Rest assured, we’ve all felt this at one time or another, regardless of what type of change we were working towards.
Clients in this position often feel shame and helplessness. They ask, “Why am I so lazy?”
But chronic contemplation isn’t about laziness at all—especially if you’re a high performer.
If you find you are still spinning your wheels weeks, months or years after the decision to change, all is not lost!
This article names what’s happening and offers gentle, practical ways to move without betraying your standards or burning out.
Where “stuck” tends to show up
In the evidence-based Transtheoretical Model of Change, contemplation is the stage where we’re convinced change matters, but we’re not yet ready to act. Most people imagine making a change within six months... yet some of us stay in contemplation for years.
That prolonged loop is what I call chronic contemplation—a state where thinking about change feels like progress, but life still isn’t moving.
Researchers Prochaska and Prochaska, authors of Changing to Thrive (2016), describe common challenges that may lead to a state of chronic contemplation:
Doubt overwhelms us. We ask whether the change is truly worth it. We wait for a guarantee that we won’t regret our decision to change.
We desire a greater sense of safety. In order to avoid possible failure, we only think or talk about the problem. We subconsciously choose to stay where we are because our fear of failing is greater than our fear of not trying at all.
We avoid anxiety. We find that the moment we begin to take action and increase our risk of failure, our anxiety rises. So we retreat to the safety of contemplation.
We seek full certainty. We decide we need full understanding, full confidence, and/or a perfect solution, and ONLY THEN will we be ready to go on. Unfortunately, this level of certainty is rare.
We may cling to familiar self-criticism, even if it is untrue. For example, we might rather believe we’re lazy or incapable than sit with the anxiety of uncertainty. It can feel safer to “know” something negative about ourselves—even if it isn’t true and keeps us stuck.
If that sounds familiar, take a breath. You’re not broken—you’re human.
Strategies to Move Forward
Reconsider harsh self-judgment.
Learning comes with missteps. A setback doesn’t mean you’ve failed; it’s simply part of the process. What if you saw each misstep as an invitation to move forward differently?
Think of a toddler learning to walk: when they fall, we don’t call them a failure or “lazy”. We cheer them on. You deserve that same compassion from yourself.
Take small steps.
When we’re hungry for change, it’s tempting to try to transform everything at once. The problem is, big changes can spark resistance—especially when you’re already worn down. Research suggests we’re more successful when we start with one small, doable step. Over time, these small shifts add up and build real confidence.
To move out of contemplation, pick one simple action, stick with it, and let it repeat. Bite-sized change keeps your nervous system calmer and makes it easier to keep going.
Be flexible with timelines.
Imagine sketching your growth on a page: it wouldn’t be a neat, straight line. It would look more like a spiral, looping around as you move, or like a dance that goes forward, back, then forward once more. This is the natural shape of change.
Because this process is dynamic, deadlines sometimes change as well. That’s why moving a deadline isn’t a confession of failure—it’s an act of wisdomandself-compassion. By giving yourself flexibility, you create the safety and spaciousness you need to return to your path after interruptions and detours.
Don’t give up—restart.
When change feels uncertain or starts to unfold in an unexpected way, it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing you’ve already failed. For many people, that belief leads to giving up. Yet in reality, we’ve only truly failed when we’ve decided to stop trying.
For a bit of perspective, consider your shower routine: if you skip a day, you don’t throw up your hands and give up on bathing forever. You just get back in the shower the next time you can. Your goals deserve the same grace. Expect interruptions, let go of all-or-nothing thinking, and choose to begin again instead of walking away.
Track your progress.
Sometimes we decide we’re stuck based on misleading information—old stories, fears, or a lack of visible results—so we play it safe. We can get into the habit of assuming we’re not making progress simply because we feel discouraged or don’t yet see clear proof. One way to step out of this pattern is to ask yourself what would genuinely count as evidence of success.
By clearly defining how you’ll measure progress—and then tracking those markers over time—you give yourself a fair chance to see movement. Often, the progress has been there all along; it just needed a way to be seen.
Redefine success in realistic terms.
All-or-nothing thinking is a common habit of seeing the world in a distorted way. Through this lens, success only “counts” when it looks like perfection, which makes genuine success feel rare and out of reach. Fortunately, we can take our lives back—and move out of chronic contemplation—by redefining success on more realistic terms.
Instead of requiring a perfect 100%, you might define success as landing within a flexible range (for example, 70–100%) or as showing up despite setbacks, orpracticing resilience. You can also let success slide upward over time: 50% follow-through this week, 55% next week. When you loosen all-or-nothing expectations, progress becomes easier to see—and your confidence has room to grow.
Challenge your objections (on paper).
Research by Prochaska & Prochaska suggests you’re more likely to move forward when you reduce your arguments against change.
So, when doubts remain, list your reasons for hesitating (“It takes too much time,” “Stress makes me productive,” etc.). Then write a kind, clear comeback to each (for example, “Even small chunks of time count,” or “Chronic stress wears me down more than it helps”).
Notice the ripple effect.
Finally, it can be powerful to reconnect with whythis change matters to you. For many people, motivation is tied to caring for others or strengthening relationships. You might ask: If I make this change, how will it support the people around me? Will my loved ones feel more at ease? Will my colleagues or clients benefit?
Noticing how your growth ripples outward can make the effort feel more meaningful and sustainable. Seeing the difference it makes for others can carry you through those times when your own willpower feels low.
A note for perfectionists, high performers, and those with neurodiverse brains.
If your mind tends to run hot—constantly analyzing, simulating, and predicting—you may notice how easily you slip into overthinking. In those moments, your brain may be trying to keep you safe: it wants certainty, wants to avoid regret, and wants to live up to high standards. When you learn to catch yourself in that overthinking loop, you can turn back to the strategies above to shift out of thinking and into small, concrete action.
The bottom line: fearing failure, craving safety, and doubting yourself are deeply human responses—especially when you care.
“Stuck” isn’t a verdict; it’s a moment in the process.
When you allow imperfect tries, loosen the grip of certainty, right-size your expectations, and take one small, reversible step, you create enough safety to move forward—without burning out or abandoning yourself.
That’s when real change becomes possible.
