Really like the core idea here. Resilience doesn't just mean push harder, and sometimes stepping back or changing how we relate to difficulty is the right move.
At the same time, I wonder how far this framing holds in situations where people have very little real control—like war or displacement. In those cases, resilience can be less about choice or mindset and more about survival under severe constraint.
I think the concept still works, but it feels important not to universalize it in a way that hides those limits of agency.
I think the uncomfortable part isn’t that resilience can turn into self-sabotage — it’s that the shift happens silently. We start by enduring, and before we notice, we’ve built an identity around tolerating misalignment.
I’d put it this way: resilience should keep you alive long enough to choose differently, not become the reason you never do. At some point, the real strength isn’t pushing harder, it’s admitting the direction itself needs to change.
This piece articulates something I’ve been trying to name for years. I built my life across four countries on exactly this kind of rigid resilience ,the kind that looks like strength from the outside but is actually the inability to stop. I recently wrote about what I call “the engine”-the performance drive that kept me alive through some of the hardest experiences of my life, but also kept me tolerating situations I should have left much earlier. Your point about grit making people slower to abandon unwinnable tasks hit me physically. I’m writing a newsletter (Unusual) about this exact intersection, what happens when high-functioning women start questioning the system that built them. Thank you for giving the science behind what so many of us feel but can’t explain.
Anne-Laure, if this is your first time reading her, is always this good.
This piece needed to be written and published and hopefully it gets widely read and discussed so it can help people in real need (well, most all of us!).
Another potential side effect from being 'over resilient' is the loss of vulnerability. My daughter has often accussed me of bulldozing my way through situations instead of sitting with the emotion.
Reflection on “The Thin Line Between Resilience and Self-Sabotage”
Big Think, Anne-Laure Le Cunff — April 10, 2026
As an Asian immigrant, my story is probably not unique. I graduated from medical school in China and came to the United States two decades ago. I became a nurse, then climbed the healthcare corporate ladder. I was once a Chief Operating Officer and very proud of my achievements — until those achievements no longer spoke to my heart.
Le Cunff’s argument that resilience, when applied blindly, can cause real harm resonated deeply with me. I lived it.
Letting go of that identity was painful. Ultimately, those achievements were a means of running away from the feeling of “not enough,” rather than pursuits aligned with my soul. During those years, I encountered the best and worst of corporate America. I numbed myself to the signals my body was sending me. I pushed through, and unintentionally brought more and more trauma upon myself. We grow accustomed to a lifestyle. Then one day, I realized I was standing on a house of cards. Slowly, I found my footing — and left.
What I Learned About Resilience and Self-Sabotage
When we are young, we develop a persona to help us navigate the world, build skills, and gain a better understanding of ourselves. In today’s world, however, we are easily trapped by addiction to fame and material things. The constant explosion of information makes it difficult to listen to our inner voice — and that, to me, is one of the biggest problems the article points to.
Resilience itself is not the problem. Enduring hardship without checking in with your soul is not resilience. True resilience is the ability to adapt to adversity, trauma, or significant stress — to bounce back from difficult experiences and recover from disruption.
Consider two people in healthcare leadership. One is passionate about improving care for underserved communities. When they encounter setbacks, those challenges do not threaten their identity — they know why they are here. They build resilience. The other entered leadership for power, influence, and external validation. When setbacks arise, they experience them as identity threats. Pushing through, in that case, is not resilience — it is self-sabotage.
The difference lies in motive. If our driving force is self-serving — and for most of us, living in this world, some part of it will be — we are at risk of self-sabotage.
Moving Forward
The antidote is not perfection. It is awareness. Le Cunff’s work reminded me that slowing down is not weakness — it is the very foundation of genuine resilience. Examine your motives periodically. Remind yourself why you do what you do. Resilience is worth building — but only when it is built for the right reasons.
This hits home. My son Cash, who has a rare disease and is medically fragile, is the most resilient person I know—not because he always persists, but because he knows his limits.
The part that hit me hardest was the idea that pushing through can quietly switch from strength to self-sabotage without us noticing. Once “being resilient” becomes part of your identity, it stops being a strategy and turns into a reflex. You don’t ask, “Is this still worth my effort?” You only ask, “How much more can I take?” In my work, I keep seeing that real resilience isn’t infinite grit, it’s the ability to distinguish between stress that builds capacity and stress that’s simply eating into the foundation. That distinction almost never shows up in the moment we’re most proud of “pushing through.” It shows up months or years later, when the system fails in a way that looks sudden but was actually accumulated. Strategic withdrawal isn’t quitting. It’s maintenance.
I need to hear this right now. Reinjured my spine shoveling snow a couple months ago, but havent changed anything yet. Believe its time to exercise less and be skinnier again.
That last point about systemic solutions resonates especially. I'd add that one of the core drivers of the "resilience = extreme grit" misconception is how we've individualized the concept. But research shows that individual strategies work best when adversity is moderate to begin with. The higher the risk, the more we need external protective factors: close relationships, community belonging, access to resources etc. I think Ann Masten's "ordinary magic" speaks a lot about these mundane, but powerful buffers.
What I found especially strong here is the distinction between resilience as flexibility and resilience as identity.
From a clinical perspective, that distinction matters a great deal. An adaptation stops being healthy when it no longer helps a person reassess reality, but only helps them continue enduring it. At that point, what looks like strength may actually be a failure of updating: the strategy remains in place long after the situation has become damaging.
That is what makes your framing so clarifying. The problem is not resilience itself, but the moment it hardens from a context-sensitive capacity into a moral ideal. Once that happens, prolonged self-override can start to masquerade as evidence of character.
I’m a 32 years old second time student studying physics undergraduate. I face financial pressure, many other issues and also political hostility from my home country. Resilience and grit are the things that keep me on the path, a path not only to a better future but also to the exploration of a field that I’m passionate about. I don’t know why Substack push notifications to me to see this article, but’s it’s upsetting. I hope that there’ll be more encouraging, not discouraging, articles for people in difficult situations but still manifest extraordinary resilience and grits.
I’m a 32 years old second time student studying physics undergraduate. I face financial pressure, many other issues and also political hostility from my home country. Resilience and grit are the things that keep me on the path, a path not only to a better future but also to the exploration of a field that I’m passionate about. I don’t know why Substack push notifications to me to see this article, but’s it’s upsetting. I hope that there’ll be more encouraging, not discouraging, articles for people in difficult situations but still manifest extraordinary resilience and grits.
"Separate your worth from your resilience. When resilience becomes an identity, struggling might feel like personal failure. Your value isn’t measured by how much you can bear.."
Loved these lines and found it's very relatable! We sometimes forget that resilience comes from surviving life, but it shouldn't stop us from actually living it :)
Really like the core idea here. Resilience doesn't just mean push harder, and sometimes stepping back or changing how we relate to difficulty is the right move.
At the same time, I wonder how far this framing holds in situations where people have very little real control—like war or displacement. In those cases, resilience can be less about choice or mindset and more about survival under severe constraint.
I think the concept still works, but it feels important not to universalize it in a way that hides those limits of agency.
I think the uncomfortable part isn’t that resilience can turn into self-sabotage — it’s that the shift happens silently. We start by enduring, and before we notice, we’ve built an identity around tolerating misalignment.
I’d put it this way: resilience should keep you alive long enough to choose differently, not become the reason you never do. At some point, the real strength isn’t pushing harder, it’s admitting the direction itself needs to change.
To “endure and keep going” is admirable, but no one is unstoppable. The necessity for balance, rest, and recalibration is indisputable.
This piece articulates something I’ve been trying to name for years. I built my life across four countries on exactly this kind of rigid resilience ,the kind that looks like strength from the outside but is actually the inability to stop. I recently wrote about what I call “the engine”-the performance drive that kept me alive through some of the hardest experiences of my life, but also kept me tolerating situations I should have left much earlier. Your point about grit making people slower to abandon unwinnable tasks hit me physically. I’m writing a newsletter (Unusual) about this exact intersection, what happens when high-functioning women start questioning the system that built them. Thank you for giving the science behind what so many of us feel but can’t explain.
https://substack.com/@leenadalal26/note/p-193854670?r=77j4p&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=notes-share-action
Please feel free to read my article that I posted today!
Anne-Laure, if this is your first time reading her, is always this good.
This piece needed to be written and published and hopefully it gets widely read and discussed so it can help people in real need (well, most all of us!).
Another potential side effect from being 'over resilient' is the loss of vulnerability. My daughter has often accussed me of bulldozing my way through situations instead of sitting with the emotion.
Reflection on “The Thin Line Between Resilience and Self-Sabotage”
Big Think, Anne-Laure Le Cunff — April 10, 2026
As an Asian immigrant, my story is probably not unique. I graduated from medical school in China and came to the United States two decades ago. I became a nurse, then climbed the healthcare corporate ladder. I was once a Chief Operating Officer and very proud of my achievements — until those achievements no longer spoke to my heart.
Le Cunff’s argument that resilience, when applied blindly, can cause real harm resonated deeply with me. I lived it.
Letting go of that identity was painful. Ultimately, those achievements were a means of running away from the feeling of “not enough,” rather than pursuits aligned with my soul. During those years, I encountered the best and worst of corporate America. I numbed myself to the signals my body was sending me. I pushed through, and unintentionally brought more and more trauma upon myself. We grow accustomed to a lifestyle. Then one day, I realized I was standing on a house of cards. Slowly, I found my footing — and left.
What I Learned About Resilience and Self-Sabotage
When we are young, we develop a persona to help us navigate the world, build skills, and gain a better understanding of ourselves. In today’s world, however, we are easily trapped by addiction to fame and material things. The constant explosion of information makes it difficult to listen to our inner voice — and that, to me, is one of the biggest problems the article points to.
Resilience itself is not the problem. Enduring hardship without checking in with your soul is not resilience. True resilience is the ability to adapt to adversity, trauma, or significant stress — to bounce back from difficult experiences and recover from disruption.
Consider two people in healthcare leadership. One is passionate about improving care for underserved communities. When they encounter setbacks, those challenges do not threaten their identity — they know why they are here. They build resilience. The other entered leadership for power, influence, and external validation. When setbacks arise, they experience them as identity threats. Pushing through, in that case, is not resilience — it is self-sabotage.
The difference lies in motive. If our driving force is self-serving — and for most of us, living in this world, some part of it will be — we are at risk of self-sabotage.
Moving Forward
The antidote is not perfection. It is awareness. Le Cunff’s work reminded me that slowing down is not weakness — it is the very foundation of genuine resilience. Examine your motives periodically. Remind yourself why you do what you do. Resilience is worth building — but only when it is built for the right reasons.
This hits home. My son Cash, who has a rare disease and is medically fragile, is the most resilient person I know—not because he always persists, but because he knows his limits.
The part that hit me hardest was the idea that pushing through can quietly switch from strength to self-sabotage without us noticing. Once “being resilient” becomes part of your identity, it stops being a strategy and turns into a reflex. You don’t ask, “Is this still worth my effort?” You only ask, “How much more can I take?” In my work, I keep seeing that real resilience isn’t infinite grit, it’s the ability to distinguish between stress that builds capacity and stress that’s simply eating into the foundation. That distinction almost never shows up in the moment we’re most proud of “pushing through.” It shows up months or years later, when the system fails in a way that looks sudden but was actually accumulated. Strategic withdrawal isn’t quitting. It’s maintenance.
I need to hear this right now. Reinjured my spine shoveling snow a couple months ago, but havent changed anything yet. Believe its time to exercise less and be skinnier again.
That last point about systemic solutions resonates especially. I'd add that one of the core drivers of the "resilience = extreme grit" misconception is how we've individualized the concept. But research shows that individual strategies work best when adversity is moderate to begin with. The higher the risk, the more we need external protective factors: close relationships, community belonging, access to resources etc. I think Ann Masten's "ordinary magic" speaks a lot about these mundane, but powerful buffers.
Essentially we need to know how and when to pick our battles. Is the outcome worth it? Ir do the negatives outweigh the positives?
What I found especially strong here is the distinction between resilience as flexibility and resilience as identity.
From a clinical perspective, that distinction matters a great deal. An adaptation stops being healthy when it no longer helps a person reassess reality, but only helps them continue enduring it. At that point, what looks like strength may actually be a failure of updating: the strategy remains in place long after the situation has become damaging.
That is what makes your framing so clarifying. The problem is not resilience itself, but the moment it hardens from a context-sensitive capacity into a moral ideal. Once that happens, prolonged self-override can start to masquerade as evidence of character.
I’m a 32 years old second time student studying physics undergraduate. I face financial pressure, many other issues and also political hostility from my home country. Resilience and grit are the things that keep me on the path, a path not only to a better future but also to the exploration of a field that I’m passionate about. I don’t know why Substack push notifications to me to see this article, but’s it’s upsetting. I hope that there’ll be more encouraging, not discouraging, articles for people in difficult situations but still manifest extraordinary resilience and grits.
I’m a 32 years old second time student studying physics undergraduate. I face financial pressure, many other issues and also political hostility from my home country. Resilience and grit are the things that keep me on the path, a path not only to a better future but also to the exploration of a field that I’m passionate about. I don’t know why Substack push notifications to me to see this article, but’s it’s upsetting. I hope that there’ll be more encouraging, not discouraging, articles for people in difficult situations but still manifest extraordinary resilience and grits.
"Separate your worth from your resilience. When resilience becomes an identity, struggling might feel like personal failure. Your value isn’t measured by how much you can bear.."
Loved these lines and found it's very relatable! We sometimes forget that resilience comes from surviving life, but it shouldn't stop us from actually living it :)