I've Been Reading a Book That Won't Let Me Off the Hook

I picked up The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest a few weeks ago. I wasn't expecting much — I'd seen it floating around, figured it was another self-help book that would tell me to journal more and drink water.

It's not that. Or maybe it is, but it hit differently.

There are a few ideas in it that I haven't been able to shake. Not because they're profound in some earth-shattering way, but because they describe patterns I recognize. Patterns I've been running for years without really stopping to ask why.

I want to talk about three of them.

The Belief Underneath the Action

Here's the idea that got me first: every time you self-sabotage, there's a belief driving it. Not laziness. Not a lack of discipline. A belief.

The book frames it as a question you're supposed to ask yourself whenever you catch yourself pulling back from something: what belief is causing me to take this action?

I've been sitting with that one.

I often find myself not following through with ideas and projects long-term (dear HR, I am referring to personal ideas and projects ;)). I'll start something — a product, a concept, a system, and the energy is there at the beginning. Then somewhere along the way, I stop. Not dramatically. I just... drift. The idea gets quieter. I move on to the next thing. And if you asked me why, I'd probably say something reasonable like "it wasn't the right time" or "I had other priorities."

But when I actually sit with it, when I ask what belief is underneath that pattern, the answer is less comfortable. Part of it is a fear that it won't amount to anything. That I'll put in the effort, follow through all the way, and it still won't matter. And if I never fully commit, I never have to face that.

There's another layer too. If people see me going all in on something, they'll expect things. And if I can't meet those expectations, what then? So it's easier to keep things low-key. Easier to let ideas fade than to carry them into the open where they can be judged.

The book's advice is simple: challenge that. Not dismiss it, not power through it with motivation, challenge it. Ask the belief to prove itself. Most of the time, it can't.

I'm still working on that part.

Perfectionism Isn't What I Thought It Was

I used to think perfectionism was a high standard. Like, if someone called you a perfectionist, that was almost a compliment. "Oh, they just care a lot about quality."

Wiest frames it differently, and it's the framing that stuck with me. Perfectionism, she argues, is more often than not self-inflicted pressure to perform and look a certain way to others. It's not about the work being great, it's about you looking great. Preserving an image because somewhere, deep down, there's a belief that you won't be accepted or valued any other way.

That one landed.

I've caught myself sitting on things because they weren't "ready." Not shipping something because it could be better. Not posting something because the phrasing wasn't quite right. And I'd dress it up as high standards. But the honest version? I was scared that if I put out something imperfect, people would see through me. That the in-progress version of what I'm building (or who I am) wouldn't be enough.

The problem with that mindset is that it doesn't just slow you down, it stops you from starting. You end up preventing yourself from moving forward because of a distorted belief that you have to get it right the first time. And in real life, nobody gets it right the first time. Nobody ever really reaches perfect. That's not how any of this works.

What I'm trying to replace it with is simpler: everything is a process. The most important thing is consistent effort — to keep moving, to enjoy the journey where I can, and to be grateful for how far I've come while keeping my eyes on what's ahead. Not perfect. Just going.

It's a work in progress. (Which I realize is kind of the point.)

What to Do When the Feeling Won't Leave

The third idea is more of a framework, and it's one I've been testing.

Wiest talks about processing emotions — not "getting over" them, not pushing past them, but actually working through them. She breaks it into three steps, and the order matters.

1. Get clear on what happened: Not "I feel bad." What specifically happened? What triggered it? Why is it bothering you? Without this, you just sit in the feeling. You drown in it without understanding what it actually is. I've done this more times than I'd like to admit, felt terrible about something for days and never once stopped to name the exact thing that set it off.
2. Validate what you're feeling: This isn't about self-pity. It's about recognizing that anyone in your exact position — with your history, your context, your shoes — would probably feel the same way. You're not broken for feeling it. You're human. The feeling makes sense.
3. Determine a course correction: Only after the first two steps. Not before. This is the part I used to skip straight to, trying to fix the situation or push through the emotion without understanding it first. Wiest's argument is that you can't course-correct something you haven't named and haven't validated. And she's right. Every time I've tried to jump straight to "how do I fix this," I've ended up circling back to the same feeling weeks later.

The order is the whole thing. Clarity, then validation, then action.

I'm not going to pretend I've mastered this. Some days I catch myself mid-spiral and remember to stop and name the thing. Other days I don't catch it at all. But having the framework, even imperfectly, has changed how I sit with difficult moments. Less drowning, more understanding.

Still in the Middle of It

I'm not done with the book. I'm not done with any of this, really.

If there's a thread connecting these three ideas, it's that most of the resistance I face isn't external. It's beliefs I've been carrying around, unchecked, for longer than I realized. The belief that following through is risky. The belief that I need to be polished before I can be seen. The belief that I can outrun a feeling without stopping to understand it.

I'm still figuring out how to challenge those. Still figuring out how to let go of the image and just move. Still learning how to sit with a feeling long enough to hear what it's actually saying.

And I think that's kind of the point.