Blog for
Chris Lauzon - Therapist, LICSW

Open your spice rack. Notice what’s there. Not just the garlic powder and sea salt, but the jars tied to chapters of your life. The cumin from the relationship where you learned to cook for two. The chili flakes from the season of intensity. The specialty blend you bought because they liked it. Some of those spices are years old. If you unscrew the lid, the aroma is faint. The color is dull. The potency is gone, yet we keep them.

Motivation “A” might involve adjusting a sleep schedule, working toward weight loss, reevaluating substance use (cannabis, caffeine, alcohol), improving diet, reconsidering social circles, or intentionally engaging in activities that promote connection rather than isolation. The specifics vary, but the origin is similar: an external pressure, expectation, or consequence prompting movement.

“Comparison is the thief of joy” is one of those phrases that sounds unquestionably wise. It’s well intended, even protective. For many people, especially those already carrying shame, self doubt, or a harsh internal dialogue it can be a helpful reminder to return attention inward. But, like most aphorisms, it becomes less helpful when we treat it as an absolute.

So much of our emotional energy gets spent managing how we are perceived: what they think, how we “come across” to others, whether we said the ‘right’ thing. It’s understandable, we’re wired for connection, but when we orient our inner world around external judgment, we slowly lose touch with ourselves. What you think about yourself matters far more than what they think about you.

Most individuals are taught that growth should be decisive, consistent, and flawless; if a person is going to change, they should do it “all the way,” if they are going to care for themselves, they should “do it right,” and, if they are going to meet their needs, they should do it “always.” YET, that very mindset often becomes the thing that keeps us stuck. If you’re in a mindset of exploring your needs, especially after stress, loss, burnout, or transition, I want to gently

Have you ever looked at your relationship and thought, “We’re both here… but I still feel lost”? Like you’re in the same harbor, but somehow you can’t quite see each other clearly? I call this the Relationship Fog. It’s that hazy place where you still care, still want to be close, but communication feels clumsy, misunderstood, or distant, where you’re trying to navigate connection, yet something old and familiar is steering your wheel instead. Let’s talk about it.

Somewhere along the road of growing up, many of us absorbed a lie: that life is a pass or fail test. You're either doing it right, or you're doing it wrong. Success or failure. Approval or rejection. We internalize this binary thinking early—at home, at school, in relationships—and it follows us quietly into adulthood like a shadow. But the truth is: real life happens in the gray. And that’s where the grace is.