Paradox of choice

Years ago, while working in magazines, I was sent on one of those corporate team-building weekends. 48 hours of awkward ice-breakers, “trust” exercises and bonding over glasses of warm wine with your manager.  My idea of hell, with name tags.

As part of the weekend, we had to complete a 100-question assessment beforehand. The kind that promises to decode your personality into a neat label. The result? We were physically lined up in a room and placed in a horseshoe shape according to our supposed strengths.

On the left stood the creatives, ideas people, intuitives, the ones who coloured outside the lines and often forgot where they’d left their pens. They thrived in ambiguity, hated structure, and loved having no method to their madness.. This was where their creative brilliance shone. On the right, the systems crew. Logical thinkers. Predictable, organised, grounded. Spreadsheets over storyboards. If you worked in HR or finance, chances are that’s where you landed.

And then there was me.

Smack in the middle.

Alongside two other people who, like me, didn’t neatly fit either box. I wasn’t surprised, but I didn’t love it either. I was sitting on a fence, a foot in both camps, while everyone else was safely in their identified camps.  I was not committed enough to be the free-spirited creative, not methodical enough to be the steady systems type.

And yet, this middle space is where I’ve always lived.

I like structure, but too much of it makes me feel suffocated. I crave safety and security, but I’ve also been known to burn things down when they become too restrictive. I work well alone, but light up when I’m part of a team.

I want connection and love, but am also extremely good at being alone. I can dream big and think practically in the same breath to get the work done. Some days, this feels like a superpower. Other days, it feels like I’m floating, unmoored, while others stride ahead with single-minded clarity.

However, it’s only now, years later, that I can see how being in the middle was never a weakness, but rather my superpower. 

As an online personal trainer, I work at the intersection of structure and creativity. Writing effective strength programs takes planning, consistency, and a creative approach to keep workouts varied, motivating, and progressive. But the fundamental transformation happens beyond the physical effort. Structure builds the habit, but lasting change comes from helping women recognise the emotional barriers and limiting beliefs that stop them from wanting more for themselves. Strength isn’t just about lifting heavier. It’s about expanding what they believe is possible.

A psychologist might call this the paradox of choice. When you can see all the possibilities, moving confidently in one direction is harder. Therefore, the trick for me was not to feel ‘lost’ from not being one thing or the other, but to accept that the middle ground has provided me with flexibility and range.

By being truly aligned with who I am and not resisting systems or creativity, I have built a business that is authentically me.  For me, the middle space is where the magic resides. 

What’s something you know about yourself that you once thought might hold you back, but has become your superpower?