It had started as a romantic adventure, a double-date into the mountains to find Christmas trees. We hadn’t anticipated quite so much snow, though. The further we drove in search of the perfect place to begin our hunt, the harder it came down. When we pulled over to scope out the area and make a plan for our search, we lost all forward momentum.
We were stuck.
One we stopped, there was no starting again. No matter how strategically we pressed the gas or pushed from outside, the tires only spun in place, digging us deeper into a rut. The truck would. not. move. forward.
Miles from anywhere, way off the main road with no help in sight.
The guys jumped out, freezing while they dug unproductively in an attempt to get the truck tires out of deep snow. Hours passed. Worry grew into panic as the sun moved lower in the sky and we still hadn’t moved.
We couldn’t get ourselves unstuck.
Out of nowhere, an oversized van appeared and started making its way toward us. The vehicle’s lifted chassis bounced through the snow, massive tires allowing it to plough forward without trouble. We exchanged glances, slightly nervous as we noticed the license plate which read, “CRUSH EM.”
“You need any help?” the driver asked through his window as he pulled up beside us.
We did need help. And we knew it.
Ignoring the questionable characters riding in the back of the van (“Do the girls want to hop in here with us to warm up?” No, thank you.), the boys hooked up a tow rope to the front of our truck. The rescue van lurched forward and our truck started moving–we were free!
After hours of spinning, our tires finally took us safely back to the main road, treeless but no longer stranded.
Rescue had come unexpectedly, when we needed it most.
That day would be far from the last time I would feel stuck.
There have been weeks, months, and even years at a time when I felt trapped in my circumstances, uncertain about how to move forward, afraid I was missing my own life…
After having my first baby, when Corey went back to work as normal and I was left alone with her, unsure of what to do or who I even was anymore.
When depression knocked the life out of me and nothing I tried–and I tried everything I thought I might help–would lift the lead weight that felt like it was burying me alive on the inside.
When I first sensed a stirring in my insides to write but I had no idea how to start. Who did I think I was to call myself a writer? And how in the world could I do something creative with two kids who needed me constantly?
In the midst of a pandemic when life as we knew it came to a screeching halt, leaving us isolated and disconnected, with no clear finish line in sight.
Sometimes the stuckness was circumstantial, created by external factors I couldn’t escape.
Other times, I felt stuck in a rut only I could see, crippled by insecurity or fear or old coping strategies that weren’t serving me anymore.
Your experience of stuckness might be different than mine.
Maybe you’re overwhelmed by the responsibilities you’re juggling, feeling like you can never give enough or be your best for anyone.
You might be frustrated by circumstances that are beyond your control, feeling trapped and powerless to change anything.
Maybe you’re restless, aware that there’s more to life than just surviving but unsure what thriving would even look like.
Or maybe you’re wondering if anyone even sees you, feeling lonely and sometimes forgotten by others.
It could be internal–you might be stuck in an unhealthy habit, a spiraling thought pattern, a coping mechanism that numbs you or expectations that overwhelm you.
Or maybe it’s outside of you–you could be stuck in a job that drains you, a relationship that challenges you, or a financial burden that never seems to lift.
Feeling stuck can be infuriating, wearying, and hope depleting. It can seem like things are never going to change.
But there is always hope.
This is not the end of your story.
Sometimes we just need to stop spinning our wheels long enough to admit we need a tow rope out of the snow.
For me, the tow rope has often taken unexpected forms: A book that gave me permission to consider my life purpose. Medication that helped my brain function normally again. A coach who helped me clarify my calling and prioritize my writing. Self-care rhythms to help me persevere through difficult circumstances.
So what do you do when you feel stuck?
Most of the time, change begins inside us, with a subtle shift toward believing we don’t have to stay stuck anymore. Here are a couple things you can do to start getting unstuck:
1. Admit you’re not where you want to be.
Stop spinning your tires, and recognize that you can’t get yourself out of the place you find yourself. You may need to grieve or rant or throw a tantrum about it–that’s okay. Give yourself space to feel what you feel.
2. Identify what’s keeping you stuck.
List all the obstacles (including external factors and even internal beliefs) keeping you where you are. Get curious about how you got here, but don’t condemn yourself. You’re doing the best you can.
3. Ask for help.
This is the hardest part. It’s vulnerable to admit you can’t get unstuck alone, but you’re not supposed to. Humans are designed to need others–it’s in our biology. Be brave and reach out to your spouse or a friend, or find someone else (like a coach or a counselor) who can help you start moving forward.
4. Look for the tow rope.
Watch for opportunities to take a step, no matter how small. Maybe it’s saying yes to an invitation, signing up for a class, scheduling an appointment, or making time with a friend. There just might be a hand reaching toward you even now, if you’re brave enough to take it.
No matter how stuck you feel, your story isn’t over yet. May today be the beginning of a new chapter, one where you start moving forward, one tiny step at a time.
If you’re looking for some tools to help you get unstuck, check out this free printable guide or learn more about coaching here!
Thanks for the encouragement. As usual.