Why Trying to Fix Yourself Often Leads to More Disconnection

Why Fixing Yourself Often Makes Things Worse

Most people don’t think of self-improvement as a problem.

We’re taught that wanting to be better is healthy. Stronger. More disciplined. More put together. When something feels off, the solution seems obvious: more effort, more structure, more willpower. So we try to fix ourselves.

At first, this can look productive. Routines tighten. Habits improve. Progress is measurable.

But over time, something else happens. The more energy goes into fixing, the further people drift from feeling at ease. Improvement continues, yet peace never quite arrives.

What’s missing isn’t effort.
It’s connection.

Fixing is built on control. It treats the body, the mind, and even relationships as problems to solve. Connection works differently. It starts with listening instead of correcting. Curiosity instead of judgment. Presence instead of pressure.

When fixing becomes the primary strategy, the relationship with the self turns transactional. Approval is earned through performance. Worth is postponed until the next milestone. The body becomes something to manage rather than something to partner with. That posture is exhausting.

This mindset extends far beyond personal habits. It shows up in wellness routines that track every step, calorie, or minute of mindfulness. It shows up in personal development as an endless search for the next breakthrough. It even shows up in relationships, where people try to improve one another instead of simply being with each other.

None of this comes from bad intentions. It reflects a culture that equates worth with improvement.

Psychology tells a different story. Humans don’t thrive on competence alone. We also need autonomy, the freedom to choose, and relatedness, the safety of belonging. When competence is pursued without connection, it becomes brittle. It may produce results, but it doesn’t produce well-being.

This is why fixing never feels finished. There is always another habit to optimize, another flaw to address. Fixing is fueled by fear: If I stop trying, everything will fall apart. Connection, by contrast, is fueled by safety. It assumes worth first, not after improvement.

The difference shows up clearly in group environments.

In workplaces, fixing often looks like burnout disguised as high standards. People chase metrics to feel valued. Teams hit goals but lose trust. In families, fixing appears as constant correction, partners and parents trying to optimize one another instead of relating. In wellness culture, fixing promises control but frequently delivers anxiety.

You can see the alternative in shared play environments like cornhole.

Cornhole doesn’t ask people to be better versions of themselves before they belong. Skill level doesn’t determine access. Conversation doesn’t have to be deep. Participation matters more than performance. The structure creates connection without hierarchy. People stand beside one another, reset together, and keep playing even when mistakes happen.

That matters, because connection changes biology. When people feel safe and included, nervous systems settle. Creativity returns. Motivation becomes sustainable instead of forced. Growth happens through support rather than pressure.

Fixing asks, What’s wrong?
Connection asks, What’s needed?

These are incompatible states. Fixing requires hierarchy, someone knows better, something must be corrected. Connection assumes equality. It treats worth as a starting point, not a reward.

We cannot punish our way into peace.
We cannot optimize our way into belonging.

But we can practice connection, in our bodies, our relationships, and our communities, and watch how the need to fix begins to soften.

Because healing doesn’t start with control.
It starts with feeling safe enough to stop trying to earn our place.

And that’s where real, sustainable change begins.