The Issue Isn't The Issue, The Judgment Is

The Issue Isn’t the Issue. The Judgment Is.

We spend so much energy circling the surface problem—the lie, the drink, the tantrum, the mess. We tell ourselves, If I could just fix this one thing, everything would get better.

But often, the issue isn’t the issue. The issue is our judgment about the issue.

Judgment quietly reshapes what might have been a workable problem into something that feels overwhelming, shameful, and impossible to face. It doesn’t just describe what happened—it decides what it means about who we are.

And that meaning is where we get stuck.

Judgment Is the Glue That Keeps Us Stuck

One of my clients once told me she was “a liar.” That was the identity she had given herself. But the problem wasn’t actually the lie. The lie itself was repairable. She could have told the truth, addressed the rupture, and moved forward.

The real problem was the shame attached to it.

Because she judged herself as a liar, facing the truth felt unbearable. So she avoided it. And in avoiding it, the lie grew—becoming heavier, more complicated, and harder to undo.

This is what judgment does. It doesn’t just add weight—it creates the conditions for the problem to expand.

What could have been addressed becomes something we hide from. The judgment tightens like a pair of handcuffs, limiting our ability to move, respond, or repair.

How It Shows Up in Addiction

The same dynamic plays out in addiction.

An alcoholic takes a drink and tells himself, “It’s just one. I can stop anytime.” On the surface, this looks like denial. But underneath, it’s avoidance.

Why avoid? Because admitting the truth—I don’t have control—would mean confronting the judgment: I’m weak. I’m a failure.

So the shame is avoided, and in doing so, the problem deepens. The drinking escalates. The avoidance grows. The cycle continues.

The behavior itself—the drink—is something that can be faced and worked with. The judgment—what it’s made to mean about who someone is—is what turns the situation into a prison.

Judgment doesn’t prevent harm. It locks the door and throws away the key. It prevents us from getting up and trying again.

The Parenting Trap

A friend of mine worries constantly that others will think she’s a bad mother if her children struggle in school or don’t follow the rules.

So when her kids have a hard day, she judges herself. From that place of shame, she reacts—not from clarity, but from fear of how she’ll be perceived.

Later, the judgment turns inward again: Why did I lose my temper? Why can’t I be more patient?

Nothing about the original issue improves. Her children don’t suddenly regulate better. She doesn’t feel more capable or grounded. Instead, shame deepens, and the cycle repeats.

The original challenge was workable. The judgment turned it into confinement.

The Common Thread

Different situations. Same pattern.

Issue: A lie. A drink. A child acting out. Judgment: I’m a liar. I’m powerless. I’m a bad parent. Reaction from judgment: Avoidance, control, denial, self-punishment. Compounding result: The issue remains unresolved, and shame piles higher.

The raw issue—the thing happening in real time—is often workable.

What makes it feel unbearable is the judgment layered on top of it. That judgment becomes a form of self-restraint: the handcuffs we tighten every time we confuse accountability with self-condemnation.

The problem isn’t just what happened. It’s that we lock ourselves inside the meaning we assign to it.

What the Research Shows

This isn’t just a personal or philosophical observation—it’s well supported clinically.

In Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, research shows that suffering increases not because of painful experiences themselves, but because of how tightly people fuse with the judgments and stories they attach to those experiences. When someone believes this mistake defines me, avoidance increases and change becomes less likely.

Similarly, decades of research on self-compassion demonstrate that self-judgment increases shame, avoidance, and relapse, while reducing effective problem-solving and accountability. When people respond to mistakes with harsh self-criticism, they are less likely—not more—to repair or change. Compassion, not condemnation, creates movement.

In other words: judgment doesn’t motivate change. It immobilizes it.

Breaking the Pattern

Healing begins when we separate two very different things:

The issue: what is actually happening. The judgment: what we decide it means about us.

When judgment loosens, reality becomes workable again.

If I lied, it doesn’t mean I am a liar. It means I need to repair. If I drank, it doesn’t mean I’m hopeless. It means I need support. If my child struggles, it doesn’t mean I’m a bad parent. It means they need guidance—and I need compassion for myself and them.

Removing judgment isn’t letting ourselves off the hook. It’s unlocking the door so we can finally respond.

The Invitation

The next time you feel stuck, pause and ask:

What is the actual issue here? And what judgment am I layering on top of it?

Then ask something deeper:

Where am I keeping handcuffs on myself? Where have I mistaken judgment for accountability? In what ways am I keeping myself imprisoned by a story instead of addressing the reality in front of me?

Chances are, the issue isn’t the issue. The judgment is.

And when judgment loosens, the door opens—not because the problem disappears, but because you finally have room to move.