Why We Build Fortresses (and How to Stop Overthinking and Find Clarity in Life)
We all build fortresses.
Sometimes out of fear. Sometimes out of habit. Sometimes because life hands us bricks we never asked for.
Those walls can look like:
Overthinking every decision.
People-pleasing until you’re exhausted.
Staying small because it feels safer than being seen.
Chasing paths that don’t even light you up.
And sometimes? The fortress looks like scrolling cat videos instead of writing that scary email—or spending an hour picking the perfect picture for that blog post instead of just hitting publish and sharing your brilliance with the world. (Guilty on both counts!)
The fortress looks different for everyone, but the feeling is always the same: stuck, heavy, closed in.
My Fortress Story
Through awareness, I can trace the solidifying of my own fortress back to a spelling bee in grade five.
There were three of us left. For a quiet little kid, that alone was nerve-wracking. My heart was pounding, but if I knew anything, it was that I could spell. This was my realm.
The word was system. Easy peasy. Honestly, I thought even a kindergartner could spell it—and here I was, ready to crush it.
I took a breath and said confidently:
“System. S-Y-S-T-E-M. System.”
When the moderator announced that my answer was incorrect, I nearly fell over.
Shock hit like lightning. Humiliation rose in my throat so fast it felt like fire. I knew I’d spelled it right—but in that moment, none of it mattered.
The “system” had failed me. Worse, I had failed me.
Eventually, I learned what had happened: the moderator, who was likely hard of hearing, had probably thought I said “SISTEM.” A heartbreaking mis-hear. But the damage was already done.
Afterward, I cried and cried. My poor mom tried to console me, but I was inconsolable. My tiny heart had cracked in a way it didn’t know how to repair.
And in that one moment, I made a quiet decision: I could no longer fully trust the world—or “the system.” And if I couldn’t trust the system, I’d have to protect myself.
So I learned to play small. To hide to avoid humiliation. To stay safe inside the fortress and only rarely venture out. And when I did? It took tremendous effort, like scaling a stone wall without a ladder.
That spelling bee was over fifty years ago. And still, when I look back through the lens of awareness, I can see how that one crack turned into bricks, and those bricks into walls. That was the day my fortress began to rise.
That moment became the blueprint for how I learned to protect myself—and maybe you’ve had your own version too.
Why the Fortress Rises
That spelling bee was one moment in one childhood. But here’s the thing: we all have moments like that.
Moments when the world suddenly felt unsafe. When our voice didn’t matter. When we felt too small, too exposed, or too wrong.
The fortress doesn’t appear overnight. It builds quietly, brick by brick. And here’s the truth: those bricks are our beliefs.
The belief that you’re not enough.
The belief that you’ll be rejected if you show up.
The belief that mistakes equal failure.
Stack enough of them, and you’ve got yourself a wall.
Sometimes the bricks pile up fast—a betrayal, a loss, a heartbreak that makes the fortress shoot up overnight. Other times, it’s slower: the drip-drip-drip of small comments, disappointments, or quiet hurts that stack until one day, you realize the wall is already there.
Either way, the result is the same: the fortress rises, and you find yourself living inside it.
It doesn’t always look like stone walls and moats. Sometimes it looks like:
Procrastination (“If I don’t start, I can’t fail.”)
Perfectionism (“If it’s flawless, no one can criticize me.”)
Overthinking (“If I analyze every option, I’ll be safe from making the wrong choice.”)
People-pleasing (“If I keep everyone happy, I won’t get rejected.”)
The fortress is brilliant in its way. It’s a survival mechanism—it keeps us safe when the world feels harsh or unpredictable.
But here’s the catch: the same walls that keep out danger also keep out light. The fortress keeps you safe, yes—but it also keeps you stuck.
The Cost of Staying Inside
At first, the fortress feels like safety. A shield. A place where no one can laugh at you, misunderstand you, or leave you standing alone at the microphone.
But here’s the hidden cost: what keeps out hurt also keeps out possibility.
Inside the fortress, life shrinks.
Opportunities pass by. You say no to things you secretly want, because stepping outside feels too risky.
Dreams get delayed. You convince yourself that “someday” will be safer, when in reality, someday never comes.
Your voice quiets. You let others speak first, decide first, live first—while you wait for a moment that feels perfectly safe (spoiler: it never does).
Connection thins. The walls don’t just keep out judgment—they also block love, intimacy, and the joy of being truly seen.
And here’s the most heartbreaking part: the fortress doesn’t stop pain completely. It just trades one kind of pain (the pain of risk) for another (the pain of regret, stagnation, loneliness).
When you live inside the fortress long enough, you start to believe the walls are permanent — that the way things are is the way they’ll always be. You forget that you built them.
The irony is almost cruel: the fortress that once kept you safe eventually becomes the thing that holds you captive.
The fortress that once kept you safe eventually becomes the thing that holds you captive.
But here’s the truth that the fortress doesn’t want you to know: every wall you’ve built also contains a doorway. You may not see it yet, but it’s there—and clarity is what lights it up.
What Freedom Really Means
Freedom doesn’t come from bulldozing the fortress or pretending it was never there. Those walls were built for a reason. They kept you safe when you needed safety. They sheltered you when you felt exposed.
But freedom begins the moment you realize you don’t have to live inside the fortress anymore.
This is the heart of Fortress to Freedom™.
Freedom is awareness.
It’s noticing when the walls start to rise—the old fear, the overthinking, the urge to hide—and seeing them for what they are: beliefs you picked up along the way.
Clarity sheds light on the bricks.
When you see your beliefs clearly—“I’m not enough,” “I’ll fail if I try,” “It’s safer if I stay small”—you realize they’re not concrete. They’re just bricks you’ve been carrying.
Once you notice them, you can question them:
Do they still serve me? Were they ever true?
Clarity doesn’t rip the fortress down overnight, but it shines a light on the bricks so you can start loosening them, one by one.
Purpose gives you the courage to let go.
It’s not easy to release a belief that once kept you safe. But when you’re connected to your deeper purpose—your values, your dreams, the life you want to create—you find the courage to set a brick down.
And here’s the beautiful part: every time you loosen one belief and choose differently, the fortress loses some of its power. The walls may still rise, but they don’t hold you captive the way they used to.
Freedom isn’t about never having walls. It’s about awareness—the daily choice to see the belief, shine light on it, and decide whether it still belongs in your fortress.
The fortress may stand, but it doesn’t get to hold you.
The Compass: Universal Laws
If clarity is the light and purpose is the courage, then the Universal Laws are the compass.
You might think of them as natural laws—the principles that quietly shape our lives, whether we notice them or not. They don’t bulldoze the walls for you, but they remind you where the doorway is.
Here are three I return to again and again:
1. The Law of Polarity: Every wall contains a doorway.
Polarity teaches that everything exists with its opposite: up/down, light/dark, in/out. Which means this: if a wall exists in your life, then the doorway must exist too.
The key is awareness. The moment you notice the wall—the fear, the doubt, the overthinking—you can also look for its opposite.
Rejection means redirection.
An ending makes space for a beginning.
A closed door is proof that another one is waiting.
The fortress wants you to believe the wall is all there is. Polarity reminds you: the doorway is already built into it.
2. The Law of Vibration: Energy shifts everything.
Everything in the universe vibrates, including your thoughts, words, and emotions.
Vibration isn’t about pretending to be positive all the time—it’s about awareness of your energy, because your energy sets the tone for your reality.
When you walk into a room carrying heaviness, the walls feel taller.
When you shift—even slightly—toward gratitude or joy, the wall looks less solid.
And no, you don’t have to levitate on a yoga mat chanting Om. Sometimes shifting your vibration is as simple as putting on a song that makes you chair-dance in your kitchen.
The fortress thrives on low vibration: fear, shame, self-doubt. But the moment you shift your energy—even a little—the walls weaken.
3. The Law of Cause & Effect: The cause is always within you.
Every effect has a cause, and every cause creates an effect.
The fortress convinces you that life is happening to you: the job, the boss, the market, the spelling bee moderator. But Cause & Effect gives you your power back.
You may not control the circumstances, but you always control your choice—and your choice becomes the cause of the next effect.
Speaking up instead of staying silent.
Reaching out instead of waiting.
Saying no instead of defaulting to yes.
Taking one step forward instead of circling the wall again.
Each small act is a cause. Each cause creates an effect. And together, they build momentum toward freedom.
The Compass in Practice
The fortress may stand, but the compass reminds you:
There’s always a doorway (Polarity).
Shifting your energy shifts your reality (Vibration).
Your choices create the next effect (Cause & Effect).
You don’t need to knock down the fortress today. You just need to notice the wall, hold the compass, and take one step.
Your clarity compass is already in your hand.
An Invitation
When I look back at that little girl in the spelling bee, I see her fortress walls rising in real time. One moment, she was confident and steady; the next, she was humiliated, shaken, and already starting to hide.
She thought the only way to stay safe was to stay small.
For decades, those walls defined me. And maybe you’ve had your own spelling-bee moment too—the time you decided it was easier to shrink, hide, or play it safe than to risk being wrong or misunderstood.
But here’s what I know now: the fortress isn’t forever. The walls may rise, but they don’t have to hold you.
The walls may rise, but they don’t have to hold you.
Freedom begins with awareness—with seeing the wall for what it is: protection that became prison. With shining clarity on it and connecting to a purpose bigger than fear. With holding the compass and choosing one step.
You don’t need the whole map. You don’t need to bulldoze every wall today. (And for the record, I don’t recommend bulldozers—terrible gas mileage and they leave a path of destruction.)
You just need to notice. To choose. To trust that your clarity compass is already in your hand.
So let me leave you with this:
What’s one wall you can see more clearly today?
And what’s one small action that could become your doorway to freedom?
Ready to spot your walls and find your doorway? Click here to join my mailing list to get The Clarity Map Template Pack — a guided clarity experience in under an hour.
Here’s to beginnings—yours and mine.