The Gap Between Knowing and Doing: A Self-Improvement Writer’s Confession

Because I write about self-improvement, some readers assume my life is sorted.?

They think I have all the answers, know precisely what to do, and have mastered dealing with all situations and people. But let me tell you something: writing about self-improvement is one thing; living it is another.

Here’s the truth: I sometimes struggle severely while trying to practice what I preach. Take health, for instance. All the accumulated wisdom can disappear when life throws you a curveball, and things become even more challenging when that curveball affects someone you love.

When Life Throws You Off-Balance

In the last week of August this year, my daughter Sara was diagnosed with dengue fever. If you’ve been through a similar experience, you’ll know the anxiety that sets in.?

Further tests revealed that her platelet count was dropping. It wasn’t alarming then, but on her doctor’s advice, I admitted her to the hospital. That was the start of a battle I hadn’t anticipated.

Dengue drains all energy, leaving the body weak and in constant discomfort. For a child, it’s even more exhausting with cannula and needle pricks. Sara spent most of her time lying on her hospital bed, drained, aching, and irritable. It broke my heart to see her like that.

Within days, her condition worsened. Fever spikes, body aches, and lying on the bed made her pain unbearable.

If you are familiar with dengue, you'll know there is no medication to treat it. The body needs sufficient strength, water, and other fluids to fight the disease. Sara needed to eat and drink to regain strength but resisted. Sara is generally a picky eater, and with this illness, she had even less desire to eat or drink.

It wasn’t long before frustration set in—for both of us.

When Patience Runs Thin

I knew what needed to be done. I knew she had to eat and stay hydrated. So, I tried reasoning with her. I explained that the only way to improve was to keep drinking fluids and eating enough food. But no amount of logic could convince her to cooperate. The fever, the pain, and her irritation clouded everything.

That’s when our friction began, and it wasn’t pretty. Sara was in no mood to listen, and I was losing my patience. I tried encouraging her to eat and drink more, but every attempt led to more friction.

When I couldn't convince her, I would lose my temper.

“You don’t understand my pain, Papa,” she’d say, eyes brimming with tears. “Why don’t you think of what I’m going through?”

She was right. I wasn’t in her shoes. I wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed, suffering from this debilitating illness. But watching your child refuse to do what’s necessary to get better is unbearable as a parent. And sometimes, in my desperation, I lost my temper.

When Logic Fails

Losing my temper didn’t help, of course. Sara and I would flare up at each other. She’d cry, I’d get frustrated, and we’d stop talking for a while. But I’d circle back and apologise, and we would make up for it, but the damage was done for those few moments of anger.

One particular day, her primary doctor came in to check on her. Still upset with me for not understanding her pain, Sara complained to him. “Tell Papa to be supportive. He gets angry with me,” she said, her voice trembling.

That moment felt like a punch to the gut. I had written countless words about empathy, compassion, and patience, yet I failed my daughter when she needed me most.

The Struggle Between Knowing and Doing

This experience taught me that no amount of knowledge or self-improvement advice can protect you from human fallibility. We all have moments where we fall short, even in areas where we believe we should excel.

Writing about self-improvement doesn’t make me immune to life’s challenges. It doesn’t mean I’ve mastered every lesson I write about. Far from it. The reason I write about these topics is because I’m constantly learning, and often through failure.

Why We Struggle Even When We Know Better

Knowing the “right” thing to do doesn’t mean you’ll always have the emotional capacity to do it. Emotions—especially when your loved ones are involved—have a way of overriding logic. When Sara was lying in that hospital bed, refusing to cooperate, my rational mind took a backseat. The fear, frustration, and helplessness took over, clouding my judgment.

No one is perfect, and expecting perfection, even from ourselves, is an unrealistic burden. We’re all works in progress, no matter how much knowledge or experience we accumulate.