# Self-Handicapping isn't just for high-priority tasks, it effects the entire prioritization decision


I figured self-handicapping was reserved for heavy, load-bearing decisions. I assumed if I kept track of major goals and my actions, I could avoid this. This is a quick story of how I learned that self-handicapping seems to effect how I even prioritize things and how, keeping track of major goals might not suffice.

# Self-Handicapping Goes Deeper Than I Thought


I've had a wobbly step at the bottom of my deck stairs that's been unsafe for about three months. I kept telling myself I'd get around to replacing the entire staircase—if the bottom step is rotted out, the rest will likely follow, right? Part of me wanted to just fix the single step, but a little voice in my head said "If you're going to do it at all, you might as well do it right."

Today, I defied that voice and did an absolutely horrific patch job. It took five minutes. I grabbed a scrap piece of wood from three feet away, found some nails in my car, and hammered them in using the back of a vise grip. It's truly ugly work, but much safer now.

## Why I Avoided the Fix

At first, I wanted to blame my upbringing. If I'd done patchwork like this on my childhood home, it would have been quickly removed and done correctly. There's nothing unhealthy about my family's preference for doing things "right."

But reflecting more, I don't think upbringing was the major factor keeping this step unmaintained.

When I left the step broken, I could tell anyone (including myself) that I'd just noticed the problem, or that I was too busy with important things to worry about a step. By addressing it, my story falls apart. Now I have to acknowledge that I tackled the problem and admit: "I did the best I could with my current resources, and here's the result." Can you blame me for not wanting to touch it?

Even excluding external judgment, I have to admit to myself that this horrible patchwork was the best use of my time given my constraints. That's hard to accept.

I think I did the right thing by doing a bad job patching the stair. I'm tempted to explain why I'm too busy for the whole staircase project, or show examples of projects I poured my heart into—but that would defeat the point. **It's acceptable to do a bad job at things.**

This is a fear of failure, or perceived failure. By not tackling a problem at all, I look smart by "choosing my battles." But choosing to tackle a problem and ending up with something not worthy of pride... that feels embarrassing.

## The Deeper Pattern

What I'm identifying here is a cognitive bias—likely self-handicapping or perfectionism. I've heard of these in the context of high-stakes situations: "forgetting" to apply for job openings, or appearing not to try hard in school.

But I never considered how deep self-handicapping goes. I figured it was reserved for heavy, load-bearing decisions where I could align my choices with my actions to avoid the trap. It goes deeper than that. I was deprioritizing things as "unimportant" or "not worth the time" because of this bias.

Now I find myself questioning the things I'd do "if I had the time/resources." Am I really avoiding them due to time constraints, or because I'm afraid I don't have the resources to succeed?

Would I be okay with embarking on a mission to gain muscle if I discovered along the way that I lacked the resources to fully succeed? Should I join that intramural sports class even if I might miss half the sessions?

Prioritization matters, and I shouldn't push myself too far. But I'm going to try reframing my options as less binary. Instead of just "do" or "not do," I'll consider "do," "not do," or "partially do."

Sometimes the horrifically patched stair is exactly what the situation calls for.