Your Brain Might Not Have Your Back—And That's Okay

Why is it that the things we want to do are so often the things that aren't good for us? Or, flipped around: why do we struggle to care about the things that would actually benefit us?

That 2:00 AM Junior Chicken? Irresistible in the moment, but is it really what you want? Or those plans you were invited to, only for your brain to convince you that staying in, avoiding people, and scrolling in peace sounds way better?

Now, let me be clear: I'm a big believer in listening to your body. But notice—I said body, not mind. Because here's the truth that hit me like a freight train recently: Your brain doesn't always have your best interests at heart.

My brain, and most of the people I speak with, love what's simple, fast, and easy. But the most meaningful moments in life are rarely any of those things. 

I sometimes ask clients to close their eyes and think of their happiest memories. Nearly every time, one of two themes shows up:

1. They were shared with other people.
2. These euphoric feelings came after overcoming something hard.

Try it. Close your eyes and allow some of your own favourite memories to pop up to the surface. Odds are, they're not about convenience. They, too, likely consist of connection and/or challenge. 

So why then, does our brain constantly crave isolation, ease, and instant gratification, when it's clear that fulfillment comes from the opposite? Because your brain isn't built to make you fulfilled, it's built to keep you alive and comfortable. To chase immediate relief. To avoid discomfort, even when discomfort is where growth lives.

The more we give in to these impulses, the more they start to feel like truth. Like, "This is just who I am." But let me be clear: eating fast food or turning down social plans doesn't make you a bad or broken person. The point is, our thoughts aren't always aligned with our values. In fact, sometimes they actively pull us away from what we truly want.

This is why self-awareness is a fundamental skill to develop.

If you can separate your brain's chatter from your true intentions, you can start making decisions that align with your values, not just your cravings. I've lost count of how many times I've dreaded doing something, only to feel grateful afterward that I showed up. Whether it helped me, my goals, someone else, or all of the above, it mattered and left me feeling fulfilled.

Recently, I heard a quote on a podcast that stopped me in my tracks:

"True hell is when the person you are meets the person you could have been."

That hit hard.

I imagined a version of myself who took more risks, said yes more often, and chose long-term fulfillment over short-term comfort. It's a painful image because I know how frequently I've let fear, impulse or straight laziness win. Maybe I'm just a weirdo, but that vision terrifies me more than failure ever could.

Life is too short to live unfulfilled, but also too long to waste going through the motions.

You've probably felt the difference between a day spent in procrastination versus a day where you pushed through, connected, and achieved something. One leaves you feeling hollow. The other, alive.

If you need a clearer picture of how much our brains can mislead us, look at addiction. Addiction hijacks your brain's reward system, making you chase what hurts you. If you've ever struggled with a craving or compulsion, you know how persuasive your brain can get:

"Just one more episode."

"You'll be fine to drive."

"Start on Monday."

When the brain wants something, logic rarely wins. But here's the good news: with awareness and repetition, you can teach your brain to want and even enjoy what's good for you.

Let me share a personal example. I recently took up running—cue the quarter-life crisis. At first, it was awful. My legs burned, I couldn't breathe, and I questioned all my life choices. "Has my life really come to this?" All in the meanwhile, my couch called my name. But now, after sticking with my runs for a little bit, I find myself looking forward to my runs. I crave that feeling of resilience. And when I run with friends, it becomes one of the highlights of my week. None of this would've happened if I'd only listened to my brain. In those initial moments, I wanted comfort. Through self-awareness and overriding my brain, I learned that I really wanted growth, connection and mastery.

You must keep reminding yourself why you, the version of you driven by values, vision, and purpose, want to do the hard thing. Not the reactive, comfort-chasing part of your brain that wants simple, easy and familiar. Because anything meaningful, anything that leads to growth, pride or lasting joy, will feel uncomfortable at first. That discomfort? It's not a warning sign. It's a signal you're moving in the right direction.

As Aristotle put it:

"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit."

So to anyone out there brave enough to choose discomfort, to push back against easy, to chase excellence instead of convenience, I'm here cheering for you. I'm with you. And I believe we can help each other build lives we're genuinely proud of.

Let's make that interaction with the hypothetical "person we can become" a reflection instead of a nightmare.

If you found this helpful or you feel someone you know would benefit from developing self-awareness, please share this with them.

Think

Grow

Evolve

Erik