Why laziness, procrastination, and avoidance are the same psychological mechanism—and how deliberately seeking friction rewires your brain from protection mode to growth mode
As a former therapist, I agree with a lot of the mechanism described here… and I also want to name where this conversation often goes sideways for women.
Yes, avoidance shrinks your life. Yes, friction builds capacity. But what I see, over and over, is women weaponizing this framework against themselves.
They read something like this and think, I’m lazy. I’m avoiding. I need to push harder. I need more discipline. More friction. More effort. And suddenly growth becomes another performance, another self-improvement project rooted in self-criticism instead of self-leadership.
The nervous system doesn’t only avoid because it’s afraid of effort; it also resists what isn’t true, sustainable, or self-honoring. And women, especially, have been trained to override that signal in the name of grit, resilience, and doing hard things.
There’s a difference between avoiding discomfort because you’re scared and declining discomfort because it costs you your self-trust, your body, or your peace.
The work isn’t “do harder things.” The work is: become the woman who can tell the difference.
Sarah came to me paralyzed by her PhD dissertation. She'd been "working on it" for months—which meant thinking about it constantly while writing almost nothing, each time paralyzed with fear. Every morning she'd wake up with good intentions. Every evening she'd go to bed having avoided her laptop entirely.
We didn't work on motivation or time management. Instead, I asked her to do something counterintuitive: sit at her desk for fifteen minutes every morning and deliberately feel how uncomfortable it was to face the blank page. No writing required. Just show up and notice the discomfort without escaping it.
The first week was miserable. But something shifted in week two. The discomfort stopped feeling like an emergency. By week three, she was writing—not because she suddenly felt motivated, but because sitting there doing nothing had become more uncomfortable than actually working.
Six months later, she defended her dissertation. What changed wasn't her feelings about the work. What changed was getting unstuck about her tolerance for doing it.
This is what seeking friction looks like: not dramatic, not inspiring, just showing up for the discomfort until your nervous system stops treating it as a threat.
I like this. Can you tell me though - honestly - if AI helped with this example. I’ve used ChatGPT a fair bit for different purposes at work and the language structure here seems very familiar and I am curious to know - no judgement at all :)
Hi Stacey. I have 30 years clinical experience as a therapist, so plenty to say as you can imagine. I only use AI-based tools for proofreading (spelling, grammar, repetition), not for writing. I think AI would take the pleasure out of writing and distort my views, writing style and experience.
Thanks for the reply — and it’s Tracey not Stacey. As a literacy teacher for over 25 years language patterns and grammar are my thing. The section that flagged the possibility of AI involvement were your last two paragraphs. These are very ChatGPT- esque. Just food for thought if using AI to edit/ grammar check.
Sorry for the mistake Tracey. I guess AI is based on language learning patterns so that's hardly surprising, but thanks for your comment, I will pay more attention to this.
As a former therapist, I agree with a lot of the mechanism described here… and I also want to name where this conversation often goes sideways for women.
Yes, avoidance shrinks your life. Yes, friction builds capacity. But what I see, over and over, is women weaponizing this framework against themselves.
They read something like this and think, I’m lazy. I’m avoiding. I need to push harder. I need more discipline. More friction. More effort. And suddenly growth becomes another performance, another self-improvement project rooted in self-criticism instead of self-leadership.
The nervous system doesn’t only avoid because it’s afraid of effort; it also resists what isn’t true, sustainable, or self-honoring. And women, especially, have been trained to override that signal in the name of grit, resilience, and doing hard things.
There’s a difference between avoiding discomfort because you’re scared and declining discomfort because it costs you your self-trust, your body, or your peace.
The work isn’t “do harder things.” The work is: become the woman who can tell the difference.
Very good point. thanks for your contribution. Friction is not the same as beating yourself up.
Excellent!!
Good article. Very engaging
Do you have any examples of anyone applying these principles successfully?
Here's an example of a client (name changed)
Sarah came to me paralyzed by her PhD dissertation. She'd been "working on it" for months—which meant thinking about it constantly while writing almost nothing, each time paralyzed with fear. Every morning she'd wake up with good intentions. Every evening she'd go to bed having avoided her laptop entirely.
We didn't work on motivation or time management. Instead, I asked her to do something counterintuitive: sit at her desk for fifteen minutes every morning and deliberately feel how uncomfortable it was to face the blank page. No writing required. Just show up and notice the discomfort without escaping it.
The first week was miserable. But something shifted in week two. The discomfort stopped feeling like an emergency. By week three, she was writing—not because she suddenly felt motivated, but because sitting there doing nothing had become more uncomfortable than actually working.
Six months later, she defended her dissertation. What changed wasn't her feelings about the work. What changed was getting unstuck about her tolerance for doing it.
This is what seeking friction looks like: not dramatic, not inspiring, just showing up for the discomfort until your nervous system stops treating it as a threat.
I like this. Can you tell me though - honestly - if AI helped with this example. I’ve used ChatGPT a fair bit for different purposes at work and the language structure here seems very familiar and I am curious to know - no judgement at all :)
Hi Stacey. I have 30 years clinical experience as a therapist, so plenty to say as you can imagine. I only use AI-based tools for proofreading (spelling, grammar, repetition), not for writing. I think AI would take the pleasure out of writing and distort my views, writing style and experience.
Thanks for the reply — and it’s Tracey not Stacey. As a literacy teacher for over 25 years language patterns and grammar are my thing. The section that flagged the possibility of AI involvement were your last two paragraphs. These are very ChatGPT- esque. Just food for thought if using AI to edit/ grammar check.
Sorry for the mistake Tracey. I guess AI is based on language learning patterns so that's hardly surprising, but thanks for your comment, I will pay more attention to this.
Awesome, thank you!
Great article thanks Rob. It reminds me of an old Chinese saying: bitter practices can make for a sweet life
Thank you. Perfect saying, wasn't familiar with it.