What Happens in Your Brain When You Say "I Can't"

Nothing good. Here's the one word that flips the switch from shutdown to possibility.

You know that voice in your head?

The one that says “I can’t start over at 45” or “I’m not good at technology” or “I don’t have what it takes to build a business at this age”?

I want you to add one word to the end of those sentences.

Yet.

I know. It sounds stupidly simple. Like something from a motivational poster with a cat hanging from a tree branch.

Here’s what happens when you add “yet.”

“I can’t start over at 45” becomes “I can’t start over at 45... yet.”

See what just happened? You went from a closed door to a door that’s just stuck. And stuck doors? Those can be opened. You just need the right tools and maybe someone to help you push. Or kick it.

I learned this the hard way. A few years after my divorce, I sat in my therapist’s office (yes, therapists have therapists) and said, “I don’t know how to be single after 18 years of marriage.”

She looked at me and said, “You don’t know how to be single yet.”

I wanted to throw something at her. But she was right.

What actually happens in your brain (and why it matters)

Okay, bear with me while I get nerdy for a minute.

When you say “I can’t,” your brain hears a verdict. Final. Done. Case closed. Judge banging the gavel, court adjourned, everyone goes home.

Your amygdala, the little almond-shaped drama queen in your brain that’s constantly scanning for threats, lights up like a Christmas tree. It hears “I can’t” and translates it to: DANGER. YOU ARE INCAPABLE. YOU ARE STUCK. SOUND THE ALARMS.

And here’s what happens when your brain thinks you’re in danger: it stops looking for solutions. It goes into protection mode. Which, let’s be honest, in modern life usually means eating Cheetos and doomscrolling at 11pm while telling yourself you’ll figure it out tomorrow.

But when you add “yet”?

Your brain hears something completely different. It hears: temporary situation. Solvable problem. You just haven’t learned this part yet.

Your prefrontal cortex, the part that’s supposed to be the adult in the room, gets activated instead. Your brain literally starts scanning for possibilities. For what you could learn next. For paths forward.

Same problem. Totally different neural response.

The growth mindset thing

Psychologist Carol Dweck spent decades studying this. She calls it a fixed mindset versus a growth mindset.

Fixed mindset says: I am what I am. My abilities are set in stone. If I fail at something, it proves I’m not smart enough or talented enough or whatever enough.

Growth mindset says: I can develop new skills. Failure just means I haven’t learned how to do this yet.

I know. “Growth mindset” has become one of those buzzwords that people slap on Instagram posts. But the research is solid.

This isn’t about positive thinking or lying to yourself that everything’s fine when it’s not. This is about how your brain processes information and whether it stays open to learning or slams the door shut.

When you say “I can’t cook,” your brain stops noticing cooking resources. When you say “I can’t cook yet,” your brain starts seeing YouTube tutorials, free online courses, and other ways to learn.

You’re not being delusional. You’re keeping the door cracked open.

Your brain on “yet” vs. your brain on “can’t”

Let me show you what this looks like in real life.

Cheryl, 48, came to see me after getting laid off from her corporate job. She kept saying, “I can’t pivot to freelancing. I don’t have the skills.”

I asked her, “What happens in your body when you say that?”

She closed her eyes. Sat with it for a second. “My chest gets tight. My breathing gets shallow. I want to crawl into bed and watch Netflix until I die.”

That’s her nervous system shutting down. That’s her brain saying: threat detected, conserve energy, don’t take risks, hibernate until spring.

Then I asked her to say, “I don’t have the skills yet.”

She sat with it for a minute. “Huh. That feels... different. Less trapped. Like there’s air in the room.”

That’s not woo-woo magic. That’s her prefrontal cortex coming back online. That’s her brain shifting from “hide from the bear” to “okay, how do we solve this?”

Within the same session—I’m not exaggerating—she started listing things she could do. Take a course. Talk to actual freelancers. Start small with one client and see what happens.

Her brain went from shutdown mode to problem-solving mode in about five minutes.

One word did that.

Why you suddenly see solutions everywhere

Your brain has this thing called the reticular activating system. The RAS is basically your brain's gatekeeper. It's a network of neurons in your brain that filters what information gets through to your conscious awareness.

When you say “I can’t,” you’re essentially telling your RAS: “Flag all evidence that I’m incapable. Show me failures. Show me why this won’t work.”

So that’s what it does. It filters your reality to match that belief.

When you say “I can’t yet,” you’re telling your RAS something different: “Flag solutions. Show me learning opportunities. Show me people who figured this out.”

Nothing external has changed. Same resources, same possibilities. But your RAS is showing you completely different data based on what you’ve primed it to look for.

It’s not magic or positive thinking BS. It’s literally how your brain’s filtering system works. Your RAS prioritizes information based on what you've told it is important.

The timeline thing that nobody talks about

Here’s what else happens when you add “yet”: your brain stops living in permanent present tense.

“I can’t” means now and forever. It collapses time. There’s no future version of you who might be different or know more or have figured it out.

“Yet” opens up a timeline.

It creates space between who you are right now, sitting here, feeling stuck, and who you might become.

And when your brain can imagine a future where things are different, it can start planning for it.

This matters so much in midlife. Because a lot of us have internalized this story that we’re done growing. That this is it. That change was for our 20s and 30s and now we’re supposed to just... coast until we die?

Screw that.

Your brain doesn’t know that story unless you keep telling it. Your brain at 45 or 55 or 65 is still plastic. Still learning. Still building new pathways based on what you practice.

“Yet” is how you signal to your brain: we’re not done here. Keep the lights on.

The practice of yet (and why it’s going to feel fake at first)

I’m not going to lie to you. The first time you try this, it’s going to feel ridiculous.

You’re going to say “I can’t manage money yet” and your brain is going to scream “YES YOU CAN’T AND YOU NEVER WILL BECAUSE YOU’RE COMPLETELY HOPELESS WITH NUMBERS, REMEMBER THAT TIME IN 2003 WHEN YOU BOUNCED A CHECK?”

That’s normal. That’s years of practiced thinking. Those neural pathways are deep. Well-worn. Like a hiking trail that’s been used for decades.

Your brain likes those old trails because they’re easy. They take less energy. Your brain is fundamentally lazy, and it wants to conserve resources. So even when you’re actively trying to change your thinking, it’s going to keep defaulting to the path of least resistance.

But here’s what happens when you keep practicing:

Every time you say “yet,” you’re cutting a new trail. The first few times, it’s like hacking through dense forest with a machete. Hard work. Slow going.

But if you keep using that trail, it gets easier. The path gets clearer. Eventually—and this part still amazes me—your brain starts defaulting to the new route instead of the old one.

What this means for the thoughts that won’t shut up

You know those thoughts that play on repeat at 3am? The greatest hits of your anxiety?

“I’ve wasted my life.” “It’s too late for me.” “I’m too old to start over.” “Everyone else figured this out, and I’m just broken.”

These thoughts have grooves. Deep, well-established neural patterns that your brain slides into automatically, especially when you’re tired or stressed or have made the mistake of looking at Instagram.

Adding “yet” doesn’t make those thoughts disappear. I wish it did. That would be amazing, and I’d be rich.

But it interrupts the pattern.

“I’ve wasted my life” becomes “I haven’t built the life I want yet.”

Your brain hears that differently. The catastrophe gets smaller. The shame eases up a little. There’s room to breathe.

And when there’s room to breathe, there’s room to think. To plan. To take one small step instead of spiraling into existential dread.

The thing about brain plasticity

Yes, your brain can change at any age. Yes, you can build new neural pathways. The research on this is clear.

But here’s what psychology articles and motivational quotes don’t mention: your brain is also deeply committed to efficiency.

It wants to use the paths that already exist because that takes way less energy. So even when you’re actively trying to change your thinking, your brain is going to keep trying to drag you back to the old patterns.

This doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re doing it exactly right and your brain is just being a brain.

“Yet” is the interruption that gives you a chance to choose the new path instead of sleep-walking down the old one.

It won’t feel natural at first. It might not feel natural for weeks. That’s okay. You’re literally rewiring neural circuitry. It takes repetition and time, and catching yourself mid-thought a million times.

But it works. Not because it’s magic. Because it’s how learning actually happens.

Try this today

Pick one “I can’t” statement you’ve been carrying around like a really depressing security blanket.

Write it down.

Add “yet” to the end.

Then ask yourself: what would I need to learn or do or try to remove that “yet”?

You don’t have to do the thing today. You don’t even have to do it this year. You just have to acknowledge that the door isn’t locked forever. It’s just stuck.

And stuck doors can be opened.

You just haven’t figured out how yet.

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This is what I’m going to do. Instead of saying, “I can’t lose weight,” I’ll start saying, “I haven’t lost weight yet.”

What will you start saying?

I’m reading every word here. I can’t get to everyone, but thank you for sharing.

I’m building a space for women who are done performing. If this resonated with you, stick around. There’s more where this came from, and we’re just getting started.