- Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
- Apr 18
It's time to unlearn helplessness and remember that your actions do have power and impact. When you unlearn helplessness, you begin to replace fear with choice and inaction with growth.
You didn’t choose to feel powerless. You didn’t choose to doubt yourself at every turn. And you certainly didn’t choose to believe that no matter what you do, it just won’t be enough. But somewhere along the way—perhaps gradually, perhaps suddenly—you absorbed those messages. You learned to stop trying because trying didn’t seem to change anything. You learned to shrink yourself because growing didn’t feel safe. This message has a name. It’s called learned helplessness. And it’s a lie.
The Psychology of Giving Up
The idea of learned helplessness was introduced by psychologist Martin Seligman in the 1960s. Through now-infamous experiments, Seligman observed that dogs subjected to inescapable electric shocks eventually stopped trying to escape—even when a clear way out was offered later. The dogs had learned, through repeated exposure to pain and powerlessness, that nothing they did mattered.
Humans experience a similar phenomenon. When we face repeated failure, rejection, or trauma—especially in situations where we feel out of control—we may start to generalize that feeling of futility to other areas of life. Eventually, we don’t just feel powerless in one situation; we begin to feel powerless in every situation. This can manifest as giving up before even starting, avoiding risks, silencing our own needs, or feeling unworthy of change. The cruel irony is that the more we act on these beliefs, the more we reinforce them—until they begin to feel like truth.
Where It Comes From
Learned helplessness often begins in early environments where choice and autonomy were absent or punished. If you grew up in a household where your voice was ignored, where failure was met with shame, or where nothing you did was ever good enough, you may have internalized the belief that your efforts didn’t matter. Similarly, systemic forces like poverty, racism, or chronic illness can teach us—directly or indirectly—that no matter how hard we try, we can’t change our circumstances. Over time, this leads to passivity, hopelessness, and a deep-rooted fear of failure.
But these patterns are not your fault. They are a survival response. They once protected you from pain, disappointment, or danger. The good news is: what was once learned can also be unlearned.
Unlearning the Lie
Unlearning learned helplessness is not about flipping a switch or pretending everything is fine. It’s a gradual, layered process of reclaiming power, rewriting inner narratives, and stepping into the belief that your actions do matter. Here are five foundational practices to begin that journey.
1. Rebuild the Link Between Action and Outcome
The heart of learned helplessness is the false belief that “what I do doesn’t make a difference.” To challenge this, you have to begin collecting evidence that proves otherwise. Start with small actions you can control—ones that create visible results. This might be organizing a messy drawer, preparing a healthy meal, going for a walk, or speaking up in a meeting. These tiny acts of agency send a message to your brain: I can influence my environment. Over time, as you string together these moments, you begin to rewire your internal logic. You begin to believe—truly believe—that your choices count.
2. Recognize the Voice of Conditioning
Learned helplessness often operates like a quiet narrator in the back of your mind. It might say things like, “There’s no point,” “You’ll just fail again,” or “Someone else could do it better.” These thoughts may feel like truth, but they’re actually echoes of past experiences. When you notice these messages, pause. Ask yourself: Is this actually true? Or is this fear talking? Imagine someone you love saying these words about themselves—how would you respond? This practice of noticing and challenging internalized scripts helps you separate the past from the present.
3. Rewrite the Narrative
Your identity is shaped by the stories you tell yourself. Learned helplessness tells a story in which you are always the victim, always at the mercy of others, always stuck. Rewriting that story doesn’t mean pretending the pain didn’t happen—it means giving yourself a new role. Instead of saying, “I’ve failed too many times,” you might say, “I’ve survived more than most people know.” Instead of “I can’t do this,” try, “I’m learning how to try.” This reframing creates space for growth, possibility, and pride in your resilience.
4. Curate Empowering Environments
The people and places you surround yourself with either reinforce your helplessness or challenge it. Take inventory: Do your relationships encourage you to take risks and advocate for yourself, or do they subtly discourage growth? Does your workplace allow you to contribute meaningfully, or does it make you feel invisible? Do your routines nurture your confidence or numb it? Even small shifts—like joining a supportive community, changing your physical space, or setting boundaries—can help you move toward environments that empower, not diminish, you.
5. Seek Support Without Shame
Healing learned helplessness is deep work—and no one should have to do it alone. Therapy, especially modalities like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Internal Family Systems (IFS), or EMDR, can be life-changing tools in unpacking the beliefs that hold you back. Support groups, coaching, and trusted friends can also offer perspective and validation. Asking for help is not a weakness—it’s a radical act of self-respect. You don’t have to prove your strength by suffering in silence.
The Quiet Revolution
Recovering from learned helplessness isn’t about becoming fearless or flawless. It’s about making a different choice—again and again—even when your fear says it won’t matter. It’s in the job you apply for, even though you think you’re not qualified. It’s in the boundary you set, even though you’re scared of losing someone. It’s in the art you make, the risks you take, the voice you use. Each act is a declaration: I am not powerless anymore.
The journey isn’t linear. You’ll have setbacks. You’ll have days when the old voices are louder than the new ones. But if you keep choosing to try—if you keep choosing yourself—you will change. You will grow.
So let me leave you with this:
If you stopped believing your efforts were pointless… what kind of life could you begin creating today?
