I sat across from a young colleague at the insurance company one afternoon, listening to him complain about his dead-end life. He was twenty-eight, healthy, employed, and had his whole future ahead of him. Yet according to him, nothing ever worked out. Life had dealt him a bad hand. Success was for other people.

The thing is, I’d heard the same story from him for three years straight. Same complaints, same circumstances, same lack of progress. And watching him, I started noticing patterns—habits he repeated daily without seeming to realize how they were shaping his reality.

I’m not saying I have all the answers. Lord knows I’ve had my own periods of feeling stuck, especially during that rough patch in my early fifties when I nearly divorced and questioned everything about my life. But I’ve also noticed something over my sixty-some years: people who feel like they have “nothing going for them” tend to share certain habits.

The tricky part? They rarely see these patterns in themselves.

1) They wait for the perfect moment to start

Remember when I mentioned learning guitar at fifty-nine? My son thought I was crazy. “Dad, isn’t it a bit late for that?” he asked, not unkindly.

But here’s what I’ve learned: there’s never a perfect time for anything.

People who feel stuck often spend years waiting for the ideal conditions to start living differently. They’ll pursue that passion “when they have more time.” They’ll get healthy “after the holidays.” They’ll fix their relationships “once work calms down.”

Meanwhile, months turn into years, and they’re still waiting while life passes by.

When I finally picked up that guitar, my fingers hurt, I sounded terrible, and I felt ridiculous. But I started anyway. That’s the difference—not talent, not timing, just starting despite the imperfect conditions.

2) They consume far more than they create

During my years in middle management, I noticed a pattern among people who seemed perpetually dissatisfied. They’d spend lunch breaks scrolling through social media, evenings binge-watching shows, weekends lost in endless video games or online shopping.

Nothing wrong with any of that in moderation. But when your entire life is about consuming—content, entertainment, other people’s opinions—you’re not building anything of your own.

I think about my woodworking hobby. It started small, just a basic shelf for the garage. But creating something with my hands, even something simple, gave me a sense of purpose that consuming never did. You don’t need to be an artist. You just need to make something—a meal, a garden, a journal entry, anything that adds rather than just takes.

People who feel like they have nothing going for them are often passive observers of life rather than active participants.

3) They keep the same routine and expect different results

One of my direct reports used to complain about never meeting anyone new, about his social life being nonexistent. Yet every day, he’d follow the exact same pattern: work, home, dinner in front of the TV, bed. Weekends were just longer versions of the same routine.

When I suggested he try that hiking group I’d mentioned, he had a dozen reasons why it wouldn’t work. Too tired after work. Didn’t have the right shoes. Wasn’t really an “outdoors person.”

I wanted to ask him: if you keep doing exactly what you’ve always done, why would your life look any different?

Since retirement, I’ve made a point of changing small things regularly. A different route on my morning walk with Lottie. A new recipe on Sunday. Saying yes to invitations I might have declined before. Nothing dramatic, but enough to keep life from flatling into that soul-crushing sameness.

4) They talk about their dreams but take no concrete steps

At my Thursday chess games, there’s a guy who’s been “writing a novel” for the past seven years. He’ll tell you all about the plot, the characters, the themes. Ask him how many pages he’s written? Maybe twenty, thirty tops.

He talks a good game. But talking isn’t doing.

I’ve noticed this habit in people who feel stuck: they’re full of ideas about what they want to do, who they want to become, where they want to go. But when you check in six months later, nothing has changed except maybe the details of the dream.

When my wife and I were going through that rough patch in our forties, we talked about fixing things for months. We went in circles having the same conversations. It wasn’t until we actually scheduled marriage counseling—made the appointment, showed up, did the hard work—that anything changed.

Dreams are nice. Actions are what matter.

5) They blame external circumstances for everything

I remember this young guy at the company who blamed his lack of advancement on everything except himself. The boss didn’t like him. The economy was bad. His coworkers were political. The whole system was rigged.

Some of that might have been true. But after listening to him for years, I realized he never once asked himself what he could do differently. It was always someone else’s fault, some external force holding him back.

Look, I’m not naive. Life isn’t fair. Some people have harder circumstances than others. I’ve had my share of setbacks—being laid off unexpectedly at forty-five taught me that security is often an illusion.

But there’s a difference between acknowledging obstacles and using them as a permanent excuse for inaction. People who feel powerless in their lives often spend more energy explaining why they can’t than exploring what they could.

6) They surround themselves with other stuck people

My wife noticed this before I did. She pointed out that when I was at my lowest point professionally—passed over for a promotion, feeling stagnant—I’d started spending more time with colleagues who were equally bitter and frustrated.

Our conversations became complaint sessions. Nobody challenged anybody to do better. We just reinforced each other’s victim mentality.

It wasn’t until I started mentoring younger employees that my perspective shifted. Being around people who were hungry to learn, who saw possibilities instead of limitations, pulled me up rather than keeping me down.

You become like the people you spend time with. If everyone in your circle is stuck, cynical, and resigned, that becomes your normal. And you don’t even realize there’s another way to be.

7) They’re terrified of looking foolish

When I started learning Spanish at sixty-one to communicate better with my son-in-law’s family, I sounded ridiculous. I mispronounced everything. I confused basic words. At family gatherings, I’d stumble through conversations while everyone politely pretended not to notice my mistakes.

It was humbling and uncomfortable. But you know what? I learned.

People who have nothing going for them are often paralyzed by the fear of looking stupid or failing publicly. So they don’t try new things. They don’t take risks. They don’t put themselves in situations where they might not immediately excel.

The irony is that staying comfortable keeps them stuck. Growth requires being willing to be a beginner, to be awkward, to fail in front of others. If you’re not willing to look foolish, you’re not willing to grow.

8) They’ve stopped being curious about anything

I worked with this guy for fifteen years. Same lunch every day. Same complaints. Same opinions about everything. If you mentioned something new—a book, an idea, a different perspective—he’d dismiss it without really considering it.

He’d stopped being curious about the world. And when you stop being curious, you stop growing.

My five grandchildren keep me curious. They ask questions I haven’t thought about in years. They’re interested in things I know nothing about. Trying to keep up with them keeps my mind active in a way sitting in familiar patterns never could.

Curiosity doesn’t have to be grand. It’s asking “why” and “how” instead of assuming you know. It’s being open to the possibility that you might be wrong, that there’s more to learn, that life still has surprises.

When you lose that, you’re essentially done living even if you’re still breathing.

9) They’ve given up on making any effort with their appearance or environment

After I retired, I went through a phase where I stopped caring. Why shave every day? Why bother with anything beyond sweatpants? Who was I trying to impress?

My wife didn’t say much, but I could tell it worried her. And I realized one morning, looking at myself in the mirror—unkempt, shabby, defeated—that how I presented myself reflected how I felt inside. Or maybe it was creating how I felt inside.

I’m not talking about expensive clothes or looking perfect. I’m talking about basic self-respect. Taking a shower. Keeping your living space reasonably clean. Wearing clothes that fit and aren’t stained.

People who’ve given up on themselves show it in how they present themselves and their surroundings. It’s not vanity to care about these things. It’s self-respect. And when you lose self-respect, it’s hard to believe you deserve anything better.

Conclusion

Here’s the uncomfortable truth I’ve learned: feeling like you have nothing going for you is often a symptom, not the disease itself. The disease is these habits, these patterns we fall into without realizing we’re choosing them.

I’ve displayed every single one of these habits at various points in my life. The difference wasn’t that I suddenly became more talented or lucky. It was recognizing the patterns and deciding, one small choice at a time, to do something different.

You don’t have to fix everything at once. You don’t have to become a different person overnight. But maybe you could start one thing today instead of waiting for perfect conditions. Maybe you could create something small instead of just consuming. Maybe you could take one concrete step toward that dream you keep talking about.

Which of these habits hit closest to home for you? And more importantly, what’s one small thing you could do differently today?