Trapped by Your Own Success
Trapped by Your Own Success
Why the hardest working people often stay stuck in the same place
I spent weeks perfecting candle scents and tweaking logo designs for my small business. Product development was enjoyable. Design work felt creative and important.
But neither activity produced a single sale.
The only way to know if I had the right product was to sell to real customers, but instead, I kept optimizing what felt comfortable while avoiding what actually mattered.
This is an example of the most sophisticated form of lurking I've ever observed.
The Competence Comfort Zone
Most people think lurking means doing nothing. But there's a more dangerous version: working hard on what you already know how to do instead of learning what you need to do next.
The programmer who learns another coding language instead of developing management skills. The teacher who takes another education course instead of writing the book she knows she should write. The entrepreneur who optimizes his already-profitable business instead of addressing the leadership gaps his growing team desperately needs.
They're retreating to areas where they've already proven themselves competent to avoid the discomfort of being a beginner again.
Why We Choose Familiar Difficulty
This pattern isn't random. It serves deep psychological needs that are hard to give up once you've experienced success.
Identity protection. Your competencies become part of who you are. You're "the person who's good at X." Starting over in a new area threatens that identity because it requires being bad at something again. The fear isn't just failure, it's temporary incompetence.
Guaranteed returns. Why risk failure in an uncertain new area when you can guarantee success in a familiar one? Each small improvement, each familiar challenge conquered, gives you a dopamine hit without requiring you to face genuine uncertainty.
Effort displacement. You can point to all the "work" you're doing while avoiding the work that actually matters. "I'm pushing myself every day" becomes justification for not pushing yourself in the direction that would actually change your trajectory.
When Optimization Becomes Lurking
This isn't about never optimizing your strengths. Oftentimes, deepening what you're already good at is exactly what you need. Optimization makes sense when you're building toward mastery in an area aligned with your goals.
The trap happens when optimization becomes your default response to any challenge—when you retreat to familiar difficulty to avoid unfamiliar growth.
The competence comfort zone feels like progress because it shares many characteristics with real growth: effort, discomfort, measurable improvement, and the identity of someone who "works on themselves."
The difference is directionality. Real growth moves you toward new capabilities. Competence optimization just makes you better at what you already do.
While you're spending massive effort on tiny improvements in your strength area, you could be making huge improvements with moderate effort in your growth areas.
The Test
You're not just missing opportunities; you might be becoming dependent on your existing competencies.
Here's how you know if you're trapped by your own success: What would you do if your biggest strength was suddenly irrelevant?
If that question creates anxiety rather than excitement, you might be too dependent on your existing competencies.
Ask yourself: "Am I working on what's already working, or am I working on what needs to work next?"
Both have value. But if you always choose the first option, you'll perfect your way to irrelevance while the world changes around you.
Your strengths got you to where you are. Your growth areas will get you to where you want to go.
The question is whether you're willing to be temporarily incompetent at something new in the service of becoming permanently capable of something bigger.
Where are you optimizing instead of growing?
Hit reply and let me know. I read every response.
This insight about the competence comfort zone is part of the consciousness-based approach I explore in my upcoming book "Stop Lurking, Start Living." Sometimes the most dangerous form of lurking happens when you're working hardest.
-Ricky