Why Wanting Certainty Kept Me Stuck After Remediation
When answers feel safer than movement
After the work was finished, I thought certainty would arrive.
I imagined a clear internal yes — a signal that everything was finally resolved.
“I kept waiting for certainty to give me permission to move forward.”
Instead, I stayed suspended.
This didn’t mean I needed more proof — it meant I was using certainty as a stand-in for safety.
Why Certainty Felt Like the Missing Piece
Certainty promised relief from doubt.
If I could just know for sure, I believed everything would settle.
“I treated certainty like a finish line.”
This made sense after months of vigilance.
I had already noticed how much energy went into asking whether the house was fixed, something I explored in When I Stopped Asking “Is the House Fixed?” and Started Listening.
How Certainty Quietly Freezes Movement
The problem wasn’t uncertainty.
It was postponing life until uncertainty disappeared.
“I delayed decisions while waiting to feel completely sure.”
This kept me in constant evaluation mode.
Nothing moved because nothing felt final.
Why the Body Doesn’t Offer Absolute Answers
My body didn’t speak in certainties.
It spoke in capacity, ease, and effort.
“My body offered information, not guarantees.”
Once I stopped demanding certainty, I could hear what was actually there.
This echoed what I had learned when accepting that my body needed distance, which I reflected on in What It Meant to Accept That My Body Needed Distance.
What Shifted When I Let Movement Come Before Certainty
I stopped waiting to feel sure.
I let small, reversible choices guide me instead.
“Movement created clarity — not the other way around.”
This didn’t force answers.
It allowed steadiness to grow without pressure.