One Foot Out

Why we keep ourselves half-invested—and how it’s quietly sabotaging our lives.

It doesn’t always look like fear. Sometimes it looks like saying yes to the weekend trip—then hoping they’ll cancel. It looks like staying in a relationship but keeping Tinder on your phone, just in case. It looks like committing to a project, a city, a person, but secretly rehearsing your exit. I call this the “one foot method”: doing something with the vague intention of being present, while always knowing you can run. It’s not quite avoidance, not quite indecision. It’s emotional limbo dressed as strategy. We think we’re protecting ourselves. But really, we’re making failure the most likely outcome.

I see individuals take a job but immediately browse LinkedIn. Say “I love you” but withhold their real selves. They tell themselves they’re being cautious. Smart. Strategic. But underneath, there’s usually a tender fear that if they step fully in, they might lose something—freedom, identity, or worst of all, the option to leave before being left.

The irony is painful. In trying to avoid hurt, we guarantee disconnection. In trying not to fall too hard, we never really land anywhere. By keeping one foot out the door, we never get to see what might’ve happened if we’d stayed—not forever, just fully.

We hover—emotionally, geographically, romantically—somewhere between yes and no, calling it “being careful” when it’s really just being scared.

But here’s what we miss: being all in isn’t the opposite of safety. It’s the condition for meaning. You can’t build intimacy, creative success, or personal growth on a foundation of maybe. You might survive that way, but you won’t thrive.

And then there’s the matter of energy. We think we’re conserving it by not committing—but we’re actually draining ourselves. The effort it takes to stay halfway invested is enormous. You spend more time analyzing than enjoying. More time protecting than connecting. The “one foot method” isn’t a long term solution. Eventually the project fizzles, the relationship erodes, the opportunity passes—and we tell ourselves it just wasn’t meant to be. But often, it didn’t work because we never really showed up.

So here’s the question I keep circling back to, for myself and my clients: Are you staying because it’s right—or because you’re afraid to leave? Are you leaving because it’s wrong—or because you’re afraid to stay?

Either way, choose.
Not recklessly.
Not prematurely.
But wholeheartedly.

You can change your mind later. What you can’t do is live meaningfully with one foot out the door.

Ways You Can Support My Work

• Buy my book

• Download my course with Simon Sinek How to Handle Conflict at Work

• Subscribe to my newsletter

• Share this newsletter with someone you think would like it or needs to read it.