For Big Changes, Think Small

A few years ago, I worked with a young client—let’s call him Kevin—who described his life as “one big failure to launch.”

Kevin was 21, living with his parents, and spending most of his time sleeping, smoking weed, playing video games, watching porn, and feeling miserable. He had done reasonably well in high school, but like many young adults, he viewed college strictly as job training. Since he didn’t know what he wanted to do “with the rest of his life,” college felt pointless.

Kevin came to therapy hoping I would somehow fix him—tell him what direction to move in, prescribe the right medication, or at least offer something to dull the edge of his suffering. Beneath all of this was a deep sense that he was fundamentally broken. If that brokenness could be fixed, he believed, life would finally start.

Early in our work, I asked Kevin a question I often ask:

“If you weren’t broken—if you were just a normal person—what would you do differently?”

Kevin said he would be the kind of person who could work, have relationships, and leave his room without overwhelming anxiety. I asked him to get more specific.

“Well,” he said, “I’d probably take a shower and brush my teeth more than once a week. I feel disgusting. And when I feel disgusting, I don’t want to leave my room, see friends, or apply for a job.”

Again and again, Kevin came back to the same phrase: I need to be the kind of person who takes care of himself.

When the Mind Turns Values into Character Flaws

In ACT, we’re always listening for subtle cues that someone is fused with language—especially self-concept. Early in therapy, clients rarely say, “I’m getting hooked by my thoughts.” But they give themselves away in other ways.

One of the most common tells is this phrase:

“I want to be the kind of person who…”

• “I need to be the kind of person who exercises.”

• “I need to be a calm person to be a good parent.”

• “I need to be the kind of person who brushes his teeth.”

These statements usually point to something important—a value—but the mind immediately reframes the problem as one of character rather than behavior.

Kevin noticed he wasn’t brushing his teeth. His mind correctly identified a problem. Then it did what minds do best: it proposed a solution.

The solution sounded like this:You don’t brush your teeth because there’s something wrong with you. Figure out what that is, fix it, and then you’ll be able to act.

This is what I’d call a mind-y solution. It feels deep. It feels important. And it reliably pulls people away from the small actions that would actually help.

Two Competing Solutions in the Room

Near the end of our first session, I suggested something very simple: that we experiment with Kevin brushing his teeth every day for one week. We framed it explicitly as a values-based experiment—not because it was “right,” not because his parents wanted it, but because Kevin said it mattered and might help him get unstuck.

Kevin was skeptical.

“I mean, obviously I know how to brush my teeth,” he said. “I don’t think that’s the problem. The problem is there’s something wrong with me. Everybody brushes their teeth. I don’t. I need to figure that out.”

Notice the two perspectives:

• The mind’s solution: Figure out what’s wrong with you. Become a different kind of person. Then act.

• The ACT perspective: If brushing your teeth moves you toward self-care, let’s help you brush your teeth—even if your mind is still yelling.

As soon as we started talking about practical strategies, Kevin’s inner critic flared up:“What kind of person needs a therapist to tell them how to brush their teeth?”

Those thoughts reinforced the mind’s original story: this isn’t a behavior problem—it’s a character problem. And so the cycle continued.

This is how minds hypnotize us. They’re persuasive, charismatic, and very convincing—especially when shame gets involved.

Neutrality Is Not Indifference

One of the most important parts of my job in moments like this is staying unhooked from my own urges to persuade, fix, or push. The last thing I wanted was to become another authority figure reinforcing Kevin’s belief that something was wrong with him.

So I said something like this:

“I think brushing your teeth is probably good for you—but honestly, I don’t care whether you do it or not. It won’t keep me up at night, and I won’t think any less of you if you don’t.You’re the one telling me it matters. And if I start telling you what you should do, your mind will just push back harder. So the question is: are you willing to experiment with some unusual ways of moving toward self-care, even if your mind doesn’t like it?”

That shift mattered.

From Character to Action

We used the inner critic metaphor to help Kevin notice the tension between what he wanted—to brush his teeth more often—and the story his mind was telling about why that shouldn’t or couldn’t happen.

Kevin practiced basic defusion:

• “I’m having the thought that I’m broken.”

• “I’m having the thought that this is pathetic.”

We validated the embarrassment without arguing with it. And crucially, Kevin noticed that his values stayed the same even when shame showed up. Despite the mental noise, he still cared about self-care. He still wanted to take small steps forward.

Once that space opened up, committed action became possible.

We explored practical barriers:

• Forgetting

• Getting lost in his phone

• Doomscrolling after waking up

Nothing exotic. Nothing pathological.

Kevin set a phone reminder—not as a command, but as a choice point. We used a SMART goal to clarify when, where, and how he would brush his teeth, and how he would track it.

I also shared one of my favorite reframes about accountability:

Don’t hold yourself accountable for something unless you genuinely believe it will move your life forward. And if it will—then hold yourself gently accountable, give yourself credit for small steps, and practice compassion when perfection doesn’t happen.

The Bigger Point

Minds are excellent at identifying problems. Where they often fail is in helping us move

toward workable action.

From an ACT perspective, if brushing your teeth moves you toward self-care and you’re not doing it often, then the solution is straightforward: find ways to brush your teeth more often. That’s it.

If last week you brushed zero times and this week you brushed twice, you’re no longer stuck. That’s progress.

But when the mind’s only tool is thinking, it tends to turn practical problems into questions of character—brokenness, laziness, pathology. Then it sends us on a long detour of “fixing ourselves,” while our behavior stays exactly the same.

ACT helps flip the script.

Instead of asking “What’s wrong with me?”We ask, “What small action would move me toward what matters?”

Big change rarely comes from grand insights. More often, it comes from thinking smaller—taking one doable step, even while the mind complains.

And over time, those small steps add up to a life that feels worth living.