Opposite Action
The Courage to Choose Differently
The stories we tell ourselves can keep us stuck. Opposite Action helped me write a new one.The Story I Told Myself
The Story I Told Myself
For much of my life, I vacillated between speaking up and hiding.
There was very little middle path.
I grew up believing things were either this way or that way. Right or wrong. Good or bad. Safe or unsafe. Learning nuance came much later in life.
In 2008, I was involved in a life-altering car accident. A six-car pileup on the New Jersey Turnpike left me trapped for five and a half hours in freezing temperatures.
The accident changed my life.
What changed me even more was the story I told myself afterward.
I felt profoundly alone, and from that feeling I drew a conclusion:
I am unworthy of love.
I am unworthy of care.
At the time, those thoughts didn’t feel like thoughts.
They felt like Truth.
The more I repeated them, the more I believed them. The more I believed them, the more stuck I became…emotionally, relationally, and sometimes even physically.
Negative thoughts have a way of doing that. They narrow our world. They convince us that the story in our mind is reality. They keep us from reaching for connection, opportunity, and hope.
Learning Opposite Action
For me, that story eventually led to a long period of depression.
It also led me to therapy.
There, I was introduced to Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), a treatment model developed by psychologist Marsha Linehan.
What I learned were life skills.
Skills for managing emotions, challenging beliefs, and changing behaviors that no longer served me.
One skill, in particular, changed my life.
It is called Opposite Action.
Opposite Action taught me that emotions create urges.
Loneliness urged me to stay home.
Shame urged me to hide.
Fear urged me not to try.
Self-doubt urged me to stay small.
For years, I followed those urges without questioning them.
Opposite Action taught me that I had another choice. I could acknowledge the emotion without allowing it to make my decisions.
That idea changed everything for me.
But I also discovered that Opposite Action could be applied to the beliefs that kept me trapped.
When I believed I was unworthy of love, it showed up in every part of my life. My shoulders slumped. I stayed on the couch. I saw myself as a victim of my circumstances. I withdrew from people who cared about me.
I looked for evidence that confirmed what I already believed.
At one point, I even made a list titled People in My Life.
I remember staring at the page.
It was nearly blank.
Rather than questioning the list, I used it as proof.
Proof that I was alone.
Proof that I was unworthy of love.
Proof that no one cared.
Today, I can see what I couldn’t see then.
The list wasn’t evidence of my worth.
It was evidence of how small my world had become.
And my world had become small because I believed the story I was telling myself.
Over time, I began to see how my thoughts influenced my emotions and how my emotions influenced my choices.
Opposite Action interrupted that cycle.
It taught me that while I may not always control the thoughts that enter my mind, I can choose how I respond to them.
When the thought was, You are unworthy of love, I chose to act as though I were worthy of love.
One of the hardest forms of Opposite Action was directed toward myself.
Every night, I did something that felt uncomfortable, the opposite of what felt natural.
I wrapped my arms around myself and said:
“I love you.”
At first, it felt awkward.
Forced.
Even a little ridiculous.
The words did not match what I believed.
But I kept saying them.
Night after night.
One evening, something shifted.
The hug felt genuine.
The words landed differently.
The love I had been practicing finally began to sink in.
That was the difference.
When I began to love myself, I began to feel worthy.
Not because someone else told me I was.
Not because my circumstances changed.
Because I changed.
I stood taller.
I reached out to people.
I accepted invitations.
I built friendships.
I created community.
The very things I believed were unavailable to me were waiting on the other side of my willingness to show up.
Those choices did not transform my life overnight, but they changed its trajectory. Little by little, the old beliefs began to lose their hold. The negative thoughts didn’t disappear entirely, but they no longer carried the same power. Their grip gradually loosened.
Building a Bigger Life
Today, I would need multiple sheets of paper to write the names.
Friends, family, colleagues, people I have coached, people who have coached me, people who have walked beside me during difficult seasons, and people who have celebrated my victories while sitting with me in my grief.
The most remarkable part is not that the list grew.
It is that I grew.
That growth did not happen by accident.
It required effort, courage, and a great deal of Opposite Action.
When loneliness told me to stay home, I joined a running group.
When self-doubt told me to stay small, I joined a leadership organization.
When fear told me to focus only on myself, I joined an advocacy group.
In each instance, I found something I wasn’t expecting: friendship, support, connection, and community.
Had I listened to the old story, I would have remained on the couch believing I was alone.
Instead, I took one small step.
Then another.
And another.
Over time, those small steps built a life filled with people, purpose, and connection.
Choosing Differently
One of the simplest ways I practice Opposite Action is by asking myself one question:
What is the smallest thought or action I can take that will move me toward the life I want?
Just one thing.
Not ten.
Not the entire project.
Not the finish line.
Just the next step.
For example, I write Dysautonomia Journal and I know regular exercise helps me manage my symptoms. I have a recumbent bike at home, but indoor riding doesn’t always feel motivating.
Sometimes I find myself sitting in my blue chair, ignoring my exercise routine.
When that happens, I don’t ask myself to ride the bike.
That feels too big.
Instead, I ask:
What is the next smallest step?
Get out of the chair.
Turn on music.
Dance.
After a few songs, my energy shifts.
And once I’ve started moving, getting on the bike no longer feels impossible.
The goal is not to force yourself into action.
The goal is to make the next step small enough that you can actually take it.
Often, momentum does the rest.
Over time, Opposite Action became more than a skill.
It became a way of living; one that encouraged action over avoidance, curiosity over certainty, connection over isolation, and love over fear.
I stopped asking, “What do I feel like doing?”
And started asking, “What choice will move me toward the life I want to create?”
That question has changed my life.
I have used Opposite Action in other painful areas of my life as well, including estrangement.
When relationships fracture, it is easy to become trapped by loneliness, grief, anger, fear, or shame. The urge is often to withdraw further, replay old conversations, or allow the pain to become the center of your life.
What Opposite Action has done for me is help me connect with love and release everything else.
The middle path reminds me that we all have experiences, perspectives, hurts, and truths that shape how we move through the world. I cannot say that any one person’s experience is right, wrong, complete, or incomplete.
What I can do is wait with love.
I can choose to listen.
I can choose to seek understanding.
I can choose to honor that we each have our own experiences, perspectives, and truths.
I cannot control another person’s journey, timing, or choices.
What I can control is how I show up.
I can hold space.
I can remain open.
I can keep love in my heart for the day they may be ready for me.
And if that day never comes, I can still choose love.
Perhaps the greatest gift Opposite Action has given me is the ability to remain dynamic.
To keep changing.
To keep learning.
When we automatically act on every fear, every negative thought, and every painful emotion, our world becomes smaller. Our choices become predictable. We begin to live from old stories rather than present possibilities.
Opposite Action interrupts that pattern.
It creates space between what I feel and what I choose.
In that space, healing becomes possible.
In that space, I can become someone new.
For me, Opposite Action is more than a skill.
It is a practice of remaining open to change.
Here are a few examples of what Opposite Action can look like:
Fear invites us to retreat; Opposite Action asks us to take one small step forward.
Shame tells us to hide; Opposite Action encourages us to reach out.
Loneliness urges isolation; Opposite Action seeks connection.
Self-doubt whispers that we should stay silent; Opposite Action invites us to speak.
Avoidance tells us to wait; Opposite Action asks for the smallest possible step.
Discouragement tells us to quit; Opposite Action suggests taking one more step.
Perfectionism tells us to wait until we are ready; Opposite Action encourages us to begin.
Anger urges us to react; Opposite Action invites us to pause and respond thoughtfully.
Guilt asks us to stay stuck in the past; Opposite Action encourages us to make amends and move forward.
Opposite Action is not about becoming fearless.
It is about refusing to let fear make your decisions.
It is not about eliminating difficult emotions.
It is about choosing how you respond to them.
I would love to hear from you.
Have you ever challenged a thought, fear, or belief that was keeping you stuck?
What was your version of Opposite Action?
Share in the comments.
Today I am sharing, I Can See Clearly Now by Johnny Nash.
Today, I can see clearly.
It feels like the perfect song for this essay.
Years ago, it was also the song I dedicated to my daughter when she received her first pair of glasses at five months old.
At the time, I was thinking about eyesight.
Today, I think about perspective.
Perhaps that is what Opposite Action has given me, the ability to see differently.
And maybe, one day, together we will see clearly.
With Love,
Chellie 💖
Author’s Note
If this story touched something inside you, I’d be honored to hear your reflections
Whether you’ve lived through chaos, rebuilt your voice, or carried wounds no one else could see, your story matters. Sharing reminds us that we are not alone in the slow, powerful work of becoming.
If this piece resonated, I’d be grateful for a like, a comment, or a share.
Chellie Grossman is a Certified Life Coach, Keynote Speaker, and Writer who empowers leaders to reclaim their voice, embrace their strength, and lead with authenticity and purpose.
This is really interesting, I will be doing more research about it to see how to implement it. It reminded me of an essay I have in the works about the baby steps I took at the beginning of sobriety. Right now it is called Pick One Thing. It is about how I have a tendency to try to do too much at once and then, even if they are all healthy things they become overwhelming and unsustainable. I had to stop and choose. to focus on only small things at once, like just 10 minutes of some kind of exercise a day to make it stick vs choosing a big 6 week strength training marathon or choosing to run a marathon. Thank you so much for sharing!
Chellie encouraged me to learn DBT principles and practice Opposite Action when I was going through a deep depression. I slowly started being able to do things that I thought I couldn't - like just getting out and taking a walk. There have been many times, even now that I'm better, when I feel lazy, or am retiscent to do something, that I think to myself "Opposite Action". Once the idea is in your head, it acts as a reminder that you can and should do the thing you need to do but don't feel like doing.