I have a love-hate relationship with goal-setting.
For the longest time, it was mostly hate.
Especially the way it’s sold to creatives like us--like if we just picked the right word of the year or bought the right planner, we’d finally become the consistent, focused, ultra-productive version of ourselves we secretly think we should be by now.
Spoiler alert: That didn’t happen for me.
I tried all the systems.
The color-coded planners.
The SMART goals.
The vision boards that mocked me by June.
And every single time, I’d spiral into shame or quietly abandon everything I had just committed to.
By my mid-thirties, I had trained myself to believe that failure was my default.
Not because I didn’t care.
Not because I lacked ambition.
But because the traditional goal-setting model just...never fit.
I had big goals, big dreams, big aspirations.
And I was achieving none of them.
You’re Not Broken. You’re Just Misaligned.
If any of that sounds familiar, please understand:
You’re not lazy.
You’re not inconsistent.
You’re not secretly doomed to underachieve forever.
You’re just using a system that wasn’t made for your kind of brain.
Most traditional goal-setting frameworks were designed for corporate structures, productivity trackers, and neurotypical thinking patterns.
Not for soul-led creators.
Not for nonlinear thinkers.
Not for the sensitive, strategic, wildly creative people who dream in metaphors and make magic on the page.
The truth is, if you’re wired for curiosity, depth, and autonomy, traditional goals can feel like shackles.
And when we try to force ourselves into rigid boxes we were never meant to fit in, we don’t get results--we get resistance.
It’s not laziness.
It’s not procrastination.
It’s misalignment.
What Changed Everything for Me
The real shift happened when I stopped trying to “fix” myself and started learning how I actually work.
I learned my personality type--INTP, 5w4, strategist to the core.
I stopped chasing outer accountability and started designing systems that honored my inner rhythms.
I realized my brain is wired for strategy and meaning--not consistency for consistency’s sake.
And I started seeing goals differently.
Not as pressure.
Not as performance.
But as narrative.
Because I’m not a goal-driven person. I’m a story-driven person.
And stories?
They’re messy.
They’re layered.
They evolve.
Just like we do.
What If You Framed Your Goals Like a Story?
This is the reframe that changed everything for me.
When I stopped asking, “What goal should I set?”
And started asking, “What story do I want to live?”
Here’s how you can do the same:
You are the main character in your own story.
Who are you right now? Not who you should be. Not who your LinkedIn says you are. Who are you really, in this moment?
What obstacle are you facing?
What’s keeping you stuck? Fear? Burnout? Chaos? Shame? Permission? Be honest. Call it out.
What does your ideal support system look like?
What kind of support do you need? A mentor? A therapist? A friend? A better schedule? Or maybe just more rest and fewer expectations.
What action steps can you incorporate into your daily routine that have the potential to build up to your big picture goal?
If your goal is to write a book, then this might be “write 15 minutes a day, 4 out of 7 days.” Focus on the next small, doable step. Five-year vision boards are great for setting goals, but achieving them depends on small, every day actions.
What is your call to action?
What is the habit that will signal to your brain that it’s time to start? For me, it’s sitting at my desk with my morning cold brew, doing my morning pages, and mentally preparing my perfectionist self for messy work.
What does success look like to you?
Immerse yourself in the feeling–not just the tangible achievement, but how you want it to feel. What could this unlock for you? What becomes possible when you stack small, daily progress on top of one another for an entire season?
Try This Instead
If goals haven’t worked for you, try this gentle three-question reframe instead.
Write it. Record it. Meditate on it in the shower. Whatever works for you.
Who do I want to become this season?
What kind of story do I want my work--and my life--to tell?
What support or structure helps me show up as that version of me?
You can even set a “story-based intention” instead of a measurable goal:
“This is the season I soften into trust.”
“This is the season I learn to create without bracing for failure.”
“This is the season I build with quiet consistency--just to see what’s possible.”
No gold stars.
No performance metrics.
Just a narrative worth living into.
You Don’t Need More Discipline. You Need a Better Narrative.
If traditional goals make you shrink, flinch, or freeze--you’re not broken.
You’re probably just ready to try something deeper, softer, and more human.
Try writing your story instead of setting your goals.
Then watch what unfolds.
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