The Courage to Live in the Grey: Trading Extremes for Nuance Brings Richness to Life

Introduction: The Comfort—and Cost—of Extremes

Most of us crave certainty. We like the safety of knowing where we stand—what’s right, what’s wrong, what’s true, what’s false. Especially for those of us with anxious or Type A tendencies, the idea of living in the grey can feel deeply uncomfortable. So, we cling to extremes. We lean into black-and-white thinking because it’s easier, safer, and gives us the illusion of control in an unpredictable world. It simplifies complicated things and helps us feel like we have everything figured out.

But the truth is, while extreme thinking can feel empowering—because it gives us that sense of control—it’s not actually a strength. It’s a mental shortcut. A default setting in the brain, designed to reduce uncertainty and protect us from discomfort. And while that might keep life tidy, it also keeps us from seeing the full picture—from experiencing the bigger truth.

Black-and-white thinking limits us. It flattens the human experience and closes us off from the fullness of life—the nuance, the complexity, the layers. It keeps us from curiosity, compassion, and real clarity.

I know this well because I lived it. For about 30 years, I held tightly to absolutes—not out of stubbornness or a resistance to growth, but simply because I didn’t know there was another way. I didn’t realize there was a middle. I didn’t know that grey existed. But once I found it—the space in between—everything changed. That space brought me richness, expansion, and a sense of freedom I didn’t even know I was missing.

Let me show you what I mean, so that you, too, can bring richness to your experience of life.

The Science of Wanting Absolutes

Our brains are wired to crave simplicity and clarity. Psychologists call this the cognitive ease effect—the tendency for our minds to prefer familiar, clear-cut answers because they require less effort to process. When we embrace extremes or absolutes, our brains actually feel rewarded. It’s as if the mind says, “Ah, this is easy. I get it now. No need to think too hard.” That clarity feels good. It gives us a break from the unknown.

Black-and-white thinking also taps into our brain’s survival instinct. In a complex, unpredictable world, the mind looks for patterns and certainty as a way to reduce anxiety and feel safe. Absolutes offer a kind of false security, a sense that we’re standing on solid ground. When things feel black or white, right or wrong, it’s like we can finally relax—because things make sense.

This shows up everywhere:

• In our beliefs, we adopt ideas as unshakable truths—about ourselves, others, or how life “should” work—because it feels safer than questioning or holding space for multiple perspectives.

• In our emotions, we label things quickly: “If I’m sad, something must be wrong. If I’m happy, everything’s perfect.” We struggle to hold conflicting feelings at once, believing we have to pick a single emotional truth.

• In our judgments, we categorize people and situations in a snap. “She’s mean,” “That was wrong,” “He’s a good person.” But life isn’t that simple. Someone can be kind and still do something hurtful. A “bad” decision might have been the best option available.

But here’s the thing: while our brains may love simplicity, real growth doesn’t live in the simple. It lives in the complex. In the nuance. In the not-knowing. Yes, our neural pathways are designed to take mental shortcuts—but that doesn’t mean we have to follow them blindly.

If we want to grow, we have to gently interrupt that automatic pull toward extremes. We have to teach our minds to look between the black and white—and discover what’s possible in the grey.

My Awakening: Realizing Truth Lived Beyond My Beliefs

For about 30 years, I sought absolutes to guide my life. When I found one, I clung to it as truth. It wasn’t that I was unwilling to question my beliefs—it was that I didn’t even realize there was another way. Concepts like “right” and “wrong” or “good” and “bad” felt fixed and unquestionable. I didn’t know they could be fluid, or that nuance even existed.

But in my late twenties and early thirties, cracks began to form in that black-and-white worldview. Slowly, I started to see the grey.

When I entered a life coach certification program, I was introduced—on day one—to the idea that our beliefs shape how we see the world. And more importantly, that beliefs aren’t facts. They’re repeated thoughts, influenced by what we’ve heard, seen, and experienced. They’re patterns we’ve accepted as truth—often without even realizing it. That realization hit me hard. I started to notice how many of the ideas I clung to were just stories I’d learned or repeated to myself over time.

A simple example: Before becoming a coach, I was a private school teacher. In that world, salaries are often capped at around $75,000 to $100,000. I took that as a fixed reality. I never questioned it—I simply shaped my entire vision of my future around it, assuming that was the most I would ever earn. That belief quietly placed a ceiling over what I thought was possible for my life.

Other beliefs showed up in how I labeled my preferences or limitations. I boxed things in: what I liked vs. didn’t like, what I could do vs. what I “just wasn’t good at.” I hadn’t yet considered that maybe I liked certain things sometimes, or that I could do things I thought I couldn’t—with practice, patience, or support.

As I continued my personal growth journey, I started gently examining those beliefs. I played with new perspectives, testing which ones aligned with the life I wanted to create. The more I opened up to the idea of “maybe,” the more I saw how little in life is truly black-and-white. Most things aren’t fixed truths—they’re interpretations I chose, often unconsciously, to cling to. They’re context-dependent, emotionally influenced, and, if I allow myself to see things as they are, constantly evolving.

And with that understanding, I realized: almost everything is grey. Nothing is truly fixed. And that’s where the magic lives.

Judgment Is Black and White — Compassion Lives in the Grey

This widening shift in perspective didn’t just affect my thoughts—it completely transformed how I saw myself and others.

A big part of my life coach training focused on self-compassion. I learned that even when we "mess up," we’re usually doing the best we can with the tools we have at that moment. When we know better, we do better—but often, in the moment, our actions make sense based on what we’ve been through, how we were feeling, or what we hadn’t yet learned.

Now, when I make a mistake or act in a way I am not proud of, I try to meet myself with understanding. I might say, “Wow, I was frustrated and acted in a way I’m not proud of. I understand why I did it, but I want to do better next time. Now that I know more, I’ll take three deep breaths and use an ‘I’ statement in a calm tone the next time I feel that heat rising," or "I noticed I lost my cool; that's a sign there's too much on my plate right now. Let me take time to recharge so that I can be the person I wish to be."

That same compassion began to extend outward. Where I once might have labeled someone who acted in anger as “out of control” or “crazy,” I now pause. Maybe they didn’t sleep well, or skipped a meal. Maybe they’ve never learned how to process emotions or speak up calmly when their buttons are pushed.

Where I used to judge people quickly, I began to recognize the complexity in their actions. Someone can be kind and still do something hurtful. Someone can be doing their best and still fall short. My brain had once craved simple judgments—but I was starting to understand that real understanding lives in the nuance.

I noticed a shift in how I perceived people. Where I used to label someone as “mean” or “bad” based on a single interaction, I started to see their behavior as a moment, not a definition. A “mean” action doesn’t make someone entirely mean. A “bad” choice doesn’t define who someone is.

This ability to hold dual truths—to allow both/and instead of either/or—felt like freedom. It helped me release judgment, both of myself and of others. It created space for compassion, and interrupted the automatic, black-and-white labels my brain had relied on for so long.

Instead of categorizing people, I began to see them as the complex, layered, multidimensional humans they truly are.

An anecdote on judgment vs. compassion:

As I was writing this article, I took a break to scroll on Instagram, and a post caught my eye—it said something like: Being emotionally intelligent means you can never fully hate someone because you understand there’s a reason why they are the way they are. 

That hit home for exactly what I was writing about here. When you open your mind to nuance, you can never feel something as extreme as hate. It becomes compassion instead. You can still choose not to spend time with that person, but you will never hate them.

Judging: "Good" or "Bad," "Like" or "Dislike"

I used to think I had to decide if I liked or didn't like something. And in doing so, I was holding myself back from growth. Here's an example: books! I read a lot of self-help books, and I would often read some of a book and decide, "I don't agree with this philosophy," and then write the entire book off. But now I realize I can dislike most of a book, or even disagree with most of an idea, but I can still find value in one aspect of it. This extends to people's ideas as well; I can disagree with 90% of a person's philosophy, but still remain open to learning from the 10% that might resonate with me. Growth truly arises when we let go of judgment, and make space for "bothness."

The Freedom of Holding Two Truths: Lessons from Emotions

As I stepped further into this space of questioning, I began to notice just how much my mind craved simplicity—even in my emotional life. I used to think in absolutes: “I’m sad, so I’m just sad.” Or, “I’m happy, so I can’t be sad.” But life doesn’t work that way.

A turning point came during a time of global heartbreak and uncertainty—not so long ago. After a tragic terror attack in Israel, I was overwhelmed with grief for the families torn apart, lives cut short, and hundreds taken hostage. It felt heavy and consuming. And yet… amidst that deep sadness, there were flickers of joy. Connecting with friends. Building my business. Sharing love and laughter with family.

It confused me. How can I feel both? Aren’t these emotions supposed to be opposites?

That’s when it clicked: I didn’t have to choose. I could feel both sadness and happiness. Grief and gratitude. Fear and hope. Life wasn’t asking me to pick a lane—it was inviting me to hold both.

Now, I allow for bothness in my emotional world. I can feel lonely and still be deeply content. I can feel worried and still feel excited. I can feel joy even while holding sorrow.

And that makes life richer. More real. More human.

Language of Living in the Grey:

Embracing “Sometimes,” “Maybe,” “Yes, And,” “Both,” “Could Be,” and “It Depends”

When I lived in a black-and-white world, many words simply didn’t exist for me. But stepping into the grey means learning a new language—a language of nuance and possibility.

• “Sometimes” — Do I like ice cream? Sometimes. It depends on the mood, the texture, the ingredients, and how I feel physically and mentally.

• “It depends” — Do I like to go to bed early or late? Do I enjoy socializing? I used to have clear-cut answers—early bedtime, no socializing. Now, my answer is often it depends on my energy, my schedule, my needs.

• “Yes, and” — Are you worried about life? I used to say yes, full stop. Now, I say yes, and I’m grateful for what I have right now and excited about what’s ahead. Making room for both worry and hope has changed how I feel inside. I used to always feel stressed. Now, I feel mostly calm and at peace.

• “Maybe” — When John snapped at his kids, I thought, “That guy is not a good father.” Now I think, maybe—maybe he’s struggling to keep up, maybe he works too hard to give them opportunities, and maybe he needs to learn better ways to express frustration.

• “Could be” — When life feels confusing or uncertain, could be opens the door to curiosity instead of judgment. Could be this challenge is teaching me something new, or could be there’s a different perspective I haven’t yet seen.

• “In progress” — I’m a work in progress, not a finished product. This phrase reminds me growth is ongoing and it’s okay to be imperfect.

This language allows us to soften our judgments, embrace uncertainty, and open up to possibility. It helps us live with curiosity instead of needing all the answers.

Why Living in the Grey Feels Hard—But Is Worth It

Living in the grey can feel uncomfortable. It asks our brains to hold uncertainty, tolerate not knowing, and sit with complexity. Our minds are wired to seek quick answers and sort experiences and people into neat, familiar boxes. This makes decision-making feel easier and the world seem more predictable.

But when we choose to embrace nuance, we step away from comfort and control. It means holding multiple perspectives, accepting contradictions, and letting go of the safety net of certainty.

That discomfort is actually a sign of growth. It’s the brain’s way of stretching beyond autopilot, learning to think in more flexible and creative ways. It’s where curiosity blooms, empathy deepens, and real transformation takes root.

More than just growth, the grey is where everything lives. It’s the space of infinite possibility—the canvas where creation begins. The grey is never static—it’s ever-expanding, endlessly deep, and boundless in its reach. It stretches as far and as high as your imagination and willingness to explore will take it.

When you live in the grey, you tap into the vastness of life’s potential. It’s fertile ground where ideas bloom, new paths emerge, and innovation and insight spark. It’s where both-and becomes the norm—holding contradictions, complexities, and paradoxes not as obstacles but as invitations.

Choosing to live in the grey means saying yes to this boundless potential. It means embracing uncertainty not as a threat, but as a doorway—a doorway to wonder, to creation, and to the deep, vibrant life that lies beyond the false safety of extremes.

And in that space, life becomes richer, more expansive, more alive.

The grey is where color lives.

In the grey, everything is possible! This is where adventure lives, where the journey of life unfolds. It’s what brings life to color!

Conclusion — The Courage to Embrace the Grey

Choosing to let go of extremes and live in the grey isn’t easy. It takes courage—the courage to step into uncertainty, to hold paradoxes, and to release the need for absolute answers.

But it’s in this very space of ambiguity that real life happens. The grey is where we grow, learn, and create. It’s where we discover new parts of ourselves and the world around us.

When we hold two truths at once, when we allow complexity and nuance to coexist, we open the door to deeper understanding and connection—both with others and within ourselves.

So if you find yourself tempted by the comfort of black-and-white thinking, remember this: extremes might feel easier, but they limit your experience. Living in the grey may feel scary, but it unlocks wisdom, possibility, and a life fully alive.

The only extreme view I find worth holding these days? The refusal to hold extreme views at all.

Lean into the grey, to find comfort in uncertainty, and watch how your life expands in ways you never imagined.

Reflection & Journaling Prompt: How to Embrace Uncertainty and Live in the Grey

Take some time for self-reflection and journaling to deepen your personal growth journey by exploring the power of embracing uncertainty and moving beyond black-and-white thinking.

1. In what areas of your life do you tend to think in absolutes or extreme “all-or-nothing” terms? (Examples: self-judgment, relationships, career decisions)
2. What fixed beliefs or limiting thoughts feel like absolute truths for you right now?
3. Experiment with adding “grey words” such as sometimes, maybe, yes, and, could be, it depends, in progress, or on a spectrum to soften those rigid beliefs. How does this new language shift your mindset or emotions?
4. Reflect on a time when you held two conflicting emotions or truths simultaneously. What lessons did you learn about complexity and nuance?
5. What fears or discomfort come up when you face uncertainty or the unknown? How do you usually react?
6. Identify one small area where you can practice embracing ambiguity and hold dual perspectives in your daily life.
7. How might adopting this flexible mindset open up new opportunities for self-compassion, resilience, and creative problem-solving?

Remember: embracing uncertainty and living in the grey is an ongoing mindset practice—not a destination. Be patient and kind with yourself as you grow into this new way of thinking.

Wishing you the best on your personal-growth journey! If ever you'd like 1-1 support, book your consultation call or reach out for personal coaching.