The Uncomfortable Truth About Focus (You Have to Let Things Feel Neglected)

I used to think my problem with people was different from my problem with projects.

With people, I couldn't say no. Every request felt urgent. Every relationship needed tending. I'd spread myself across a dozen commitments, show up half-present for all of them, and collapse exhausted wondering why nobody seemed satisfied.

With projects, same story. Every idea felt important. Every half-started draft deserved attention. I'd bounce between novels and business plans and systems, make incremental progress on everything, finish nothing.

It took me way too long to see it: these are the same problem.

The People-Pleasing Trap

You know how people-pleasing works.

Someone asks for something. You say yes. Someone else asks. Yes again. Before long, your calendar is a mosaic of other people's priorities.

You think you're being generous. Helpful. A good friend, colleague, partner.

But here's what actually happens: nobody gets your best. Not even close. They get the scraps — the distracted version of you who's already thinking about the next obligation.

And you? You get exhausted. Resentful. Wondering why you're working so hard and feeling so empty.

The math doesn't work. You can't give 100% to fifteen different people. You end up giving 7% to each and calling it love.

The Project-Pleasing Trap

Now look at your creative life.

An idea shows up. It's exciting. You say yes. Another idea. Yes again. Your hard drive fills with beginnings. Your notebooks overflow with possibilities.

You think you're being creative. Open. Following your curiosity wherever it leads.

But here's what actually happens: nothing gets finished. Every project gets the scraps — a few hours here, a burst of energy there, never enough sustained attention to push through the hard middle.

And you? Exhausted. Scattered. Wondering why you have so many ideas and so few completed works.

Project-pleasing is people-pleasing, just pointed at your own ideas.

Why Saying Yes to Everything Means Yes to Nothing

This is the part that hurts to admit.

When you say yes to everything, you're not being generous. You're avoiding the discomfort of choosing.

Because choosing means some things don't get picked. Some people feel neglected. Some ideas get shelved. And that feels bad. It feels like failure, or selfishness, or closing doors.

So you don't choose. You keep everything alive. You maintain the illusion of infinite possibility.

But possibility isn't the same as progress. Keeping options open isn't the same as building something real.

At some point, you have to pick. And picking means letting go.

The Uncomfortable Truth About Creative Work

Here's what nobody tells you when you start:

You can't just be creative. Creativity is necessary but not sufficient.

You also have to be organized. Focused. Willing to choose who and what gets your attention — and willing to let the rest feel neglected.

That last part is the killer. Willing to let things feel neglected.

The novel you're not writing right now? It will feel neglected. The friend you didn't call back? They might feel hurt. The business idea gathering dust? It will whisper that you're wasting potential.

This is the cost of focus. It doesn't feel good. But it's the only way anything gets done.

How This Changes Everything

Once I saw project-pleasing as the same trap as people-pleasing, something shifted.

I stopped treating every idea like it deserved equal attention. Some ideas are better than others. Some projects matter more right now. Pretending otherwise isn't fairness — it's avoidance.

I started practicing the same boundaries with my projects that I'd been learning with people. Not every idea gets a yes. Not every half-started draft gets more time. Some things have to wait. Some things have to die.

It feels ruthless. But it's actually the opposite. It's the only way to give your best to anything.

Try This Today

Look at your active projects. Count them honestly.

Now ask: if you could only finish one, which would it be?

Give that one your yes. Let the others feel neglected — for now. See what happens when something finally gets your full attention.

What would you finish if you stopped saying yes to everything?