Why You Can Solve Other People's Problems Easily But Struggle With Your Own Life?

Scientifically Decoding Solomon's Paradox

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to give advice to a friend, yet when you're facing a similar issue, you feel completely stuck?

This is known as Solomon's Paradox. It's the gap between how clearly we can see other people’s problems—and how murky our own can feel.

The name comes from King Solomon, famous for his wisdom in judging others’ disputes—like suggesting a baby be split to reveal the true mother. But he struggled deeply in his own life, with family conflict and moral failings.

You’ve probably lived this. A friend tells you they’re heartbroken. You tell them to rest, get outside, reconnect with joy. They follow your advice and feel better.

But when you’re the one in pain?

You're doom-scrolling, second-guessing everything, and ignoring your own playbook.

Why?

Because Solomon’s Paradox is real. We’re often better at helping others than ourselves.

Here’s why—and how to close that gap.

Why Does This Happen?

This disconnect comes down to how our brains respond to threats.

When a decision affects us personally—like leaving a toxic job or having a tough conversation—our brain sounds the alarm. The amygdala kicks in. Cortisol spikes. The prefrontal cortex (the part that thinks rationally) gets quiet.

So even basic decisions feel life-or-death.

A 2020 paper in Nature Reviews Neuroscience showed this clearly: stress narrows focus and reduces working memory. Which means less brainpower available to think clearly.

But when we’re helping someone else? There’s no threat. No cortisol flood. Just unbiased perspective.

In a 2014 study by Grossmann and Kross, participants were asked to think through problems from a third-person point of view. Those who did showed more wisdom and less emotional bias.

In other words: objectivity kicks in when you’re not emotionally tangled up.

Personal stakes cloud our judgment. You fear the consequences, so your brain locks up. But when the outcome won’t impact your own life, the stakes feel manageable—and decision-making gets easier.

On top of that, cognitive biases sneak in.

The self-serving bias makes us overconfident about handling our own problems while downplaying how emotional we actually are.

And the bias blind spot makes us worse at seeing our own bad reasoning than someone else’s.

Put those together, and you get a clear picture: stress, fear, and ego hijack your ability to think clearly when it’s your life on the line.

How to Tackle This Issue?

Knowing about the paradox helps—but it doesn’t fix it.

The fix is detachment.

Specifically: reduce how much you care about the outcome. And the fastest way to do that? Imagine the worst-case scenario, and make a plan for it.

That sounds negative, but it’s actually freeing. It signals to your brain: “This won’t kill me.”

Here’s what that looks like.

Say you want to talk to your boss about feeling overworked. You're nervous. What if they get mad? What if you lose your job?

So play that out. Worst-case: you’re let go.

Now what?

You review your savings. You prep your resume. You start talking to your network. You plan a few fallback income options.

With a survival plan in place, your stress response chills out. Your prefrontal cortex re-engages. You can think clearly again.

This isn’t a new idea. Seneca, the Roman Stoic, did this all the time. He’d imagine losing his wealth, comfort, even people. Not to depress himself—but to get stronger. To stop fearing the future.

Same idea applies today.

Thinking of ending a draining friendship? Imagine the loneliness. Imagine the guilt. Then plan what you’d do next. Call other friends. Find a new community. Spend time learning to enjoy your own company.

Once you’re emotionally prepared for what you fear, it doesn’t control you.

Same with bigger life decisions—like moving to a new city for a job.

Worried it won’t work out?

Play it out. The job sucks. You’re homesick. You move back.

Could you save a cushion? Stay with family? Find a fallback job?

If the answer’s yes, then the decision becomes less scary. You start to see the move the same way you’d see it if a friend were considering it: a calculated risk—not a dangerous leap.

Conclusion

We give great advice to friends because their problems don’t hijack our nervous system.

Solomon’s Paradox shows us how our minds get clouded by personal fear and emotional weight. But that doesn’t mean we’re stuck with it.

You can step back. Create distance. Defuse the fear.

And the easiest way to start?

Imagine the worst. Plan your survival.

Then make the choice you already know is right.