A Map for the Fog: Leading When People Shut Down

We are hardwired for coherence. Our brains are constantly trying to make things make sense—looking for patterns, stories, connections that help us feel secure and stable. For some people, that wiring shows up as a need for predictability. For others, like me, it shows up as a brain that keeps tabs open until the pieces fit.

That’s not a flaw. It’s a feature.

Several years ago, something happened around me—and to me—that did not make sense. It felt like someone dumped a thousand puzzle pieces in my lap with no picture to guide me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was raw and distracting. Unfinished. And here’s the truth: the peace didn’t come from the resolution of the original hurt. It came from having all the information—truthfully, finally—thanks to my puzzle-finishing wiring. Once it finally clicked into place, I could close the tab. My brain could exhale. That’s how deep the need for coherence runs in some of us.

When things don’t line up—when the plan is vague, the instructions unclear, the “next step” missing—most people don’t power through. They pause. Or worse, they freeze.

Recently, I asked my team to finish this sentence: “When I’m stressed or frustrated, I tend to…”

The top answer by far? “Shut down.”

55.9% of them said that. Another 26.5% said “Feel burnt out.” Only one person gave a response that even hinted at action—and it was resentment.

It confirmed something I’ve always known but hadn’t captured in data before: For so many women in business, leadership doesn’t stall because of fear—it stalls because of too many open loops and not enough clarity.

Most people don’t lack motivation. They lack clarity. When there’s too much fog, we freeze.

And that’s exactly why I use ChatGPT the way I do. Not as a magic content machine, but as a trusted space to offload all my open mental tabs. When I feel overwhelmed, I dump the swirling pieces in and sigh with relief. Because now I know I won’t forget. I can come back when I’m ready. And it’s never mad that I dropped a thought and didn’t return for a week. That alone has been a life-changing shift.

This is one of the ways I use ChatGPT—proudly and with my whole chest. Ten toes down, it’s a tool worth learning how to use.

Especially for the spicy-brained among us—diagnosed or not (you know who you are)—this matters. We’re the ones whose minds are always working overtime trying to spot patterns, make connections, and solve puzzles—not just in work, but in family, friendship, and daily life. We don’t shut off; we search. That’s how we make sense of the world. It’s not dysfunction. It’s design.

But when the pieces don’t fit? When the system is broken or the clarity is missing? We don’t always keep moving. We freeze, or worse, spiral.

It’s one of the key things I teach in my AI classes: “When you freeze, offload.”

Confusion isn’t a character flaw—it’s a cue. A cue to slow down, simplify, and start somewhere safe.

Teaching others starts with leading yourself well—and sometimes that looks like naming your swirl, capturing your thoughts, and giving yourself permission not to solve it all right now.

It’s also why I’m so passionate about the systems I build in business. Whether it’s helping a new ABBI customer figure out what to use first, or guiding a team leader through launch overwhelm, I always come back to one thing: Coherence.

Your nervous system craves it. Your team needs it. Your brain is designed for it.

If you’re a leader and you’re seeing freeze across your team, it might not be a motivation problem. It might be a map problem. So ask:

• Where might the path feel muddy?
• Are people confused about what to do or how to do it?
• What’s one way I could make this process more friction-free?
• Could I be clearer with the next step—even if it’s small?

Because coherence doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to feel safe enough to keep going.

If you’re someone who freezes, here’s your reminder: There’s nothing wrong with you. You might just be trying to do it all in your head. Start by getting the puzzle pieces out—even if they don’t make sense yet. Even if they’re messy. Even if they’re incomplete.

That’s how I use ChatGPT—and it’s one of the most powerful things I now teach: Don’t freeze. Offload. Then return when you’re ready to build.

It’s one of many ways I’ve learned to use this tool—not just for content, but for calm. And every time I share it, someone pulls me aside and says, “Okay… wait. Can you teach me how to do that?”

Your brilliance was never the problem. The missing piece was a map—and now you’ve got one.

And if you’re anything like me, peace doesn’t always come from fixing the pain—it comes from finally understanding it. From seeing the full picture, even if the picture hurts—even if it makes you sad. That’s when I can exhale. That’s when I know I can lead others, too.