When You Know What You Mean But Can't Make Others Understand

Sometimes the problem isn't your direction—it's finding the right words for where you're going

I had a mini meltdown last night. The WTF am I doing moment that makes you question everything.

Not because I didn't know where I was going—I could see the direction clearly. But something was missing, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. The frustration of knowing your concepts are solid, but watching them turn fuzzy the moment you try to explain them to someone else.

You know that feeling when you're trying to describe a color to someone who's never seen it?

The Spiral Started With Words

Those niggly details that should be simple but somehow aren't.

"Community"—I know exactly what I mean when I say it, but it lands completely differently with my audience. "Thinking partner"—crystal clear in my head, sounds impossibly vague when I say it out loud. When words don't land right, your brain immediately jumps to "I must be doing something wrong."

Maybe I should pivot. Maybe this direction isn't right. Maybe I'm missing something fundamental.

But here's the thing—the direction felt solid. The concepts made sense. It was just the language that wasn't cooperating. Yet instead of trusting that and working on the clarity, I started questioning everything.

Dropoffs and Meltdowns

But then I remembered the times I dropped my daughter at her day care.

It took me back to those mornings dropping my daughter off at her child development center. She loved it there—I was right up the road, she knew the staff, had little friends waiting for her. But there were still those days when the first few moments were her own WTF moments.

The clinging. The tears. The "why can't I spend the day with you" look.

Beyond The Tears

On those tough mornings when she'd wrap around my leg, the teacher would always say the same thing: "Don't worry Mom, as soon as the door closes, the tears stop and she goes about her merry way."

And she was right. Every time.

My daughter struggled to articulate her needs and why she needed time before I left. She knew she wanted something—comfort, connection, understanding—but the words weren't there. The clarity wasn't there. Just the raw feeling that something was off.

Sound familiar?

The Right Words

The breakthrough wasn't about changing direction—it was about finding the right language for where I was already going.

Here's what I realized: My daughter and I were in the same boat. We both knew what we meant, but we couldn't make others understand. The temporary discomfort wasn't proof we were in the wrong place—it was proof we needed better clarity on the details.

Not the big picture. That was clear—the translation between what we knew and what others could grasp.

Most of us abandon ship when the words don't work. We think if we can't explain it clearly, the concept must be flawed. But what if the concept is solid and we just need to find our language?

What if the problem isn't what we're building, but how we're describing it?

Someone Who Gets It

Maya Sayvanova

– Marketing Strategist built her entire "Smarter Solopreneurs" newsletter around the precision of language. She took the fuzzy concept of "anti-hustle entrepreneurship" and made it crystal clear through consistent, specific messaging.

She doesn't chase trends—she finds the exact language that helps thoughtful solopreneurs understand what they're building. Her success comes from clarity, not complexity.

The Words Hitting Differently

The tears stop as soon as the door closes.

Those words hit differently now. It wasn't about my daughter being in the wrong place—it was about the temporary discomfort of not being able to see what came next.

The same way my business direction is right, but I'm still in that moment before the door closes. Still finding the words that will make everything click.

• • •

This wasn't about my concepts being wrong—it was about needing the right language to make them clear.

"Community" needs to become something more specific. The term "Thinking partner" needs context to be concrete rather than vague. Context Library needs examples that show rather than tell.

The direction is solid. The foundation is there. I just need to trust the process of finding words that match the clarity I already have inside.

What Would You Change

What would change if you stopped questioning your direction every time the words didn't work?

Instead of scrapping concepts that feel solid but sound fuzzy, what if you trusted the adjustment process? The minor tweaks that help others see what you already know clearly.

Sometimes the problem isn't your vision—it's finding the language that lets others into it.

Here's how to trust the process while you find your words:

1. Document what you actually mean - Write out the clear version that lives in your head, even if it's messy

2. Test small pieces - Share one concept at a time instead of trying to explain everything

3. Collect the confusion - When people look lost, ask "What part doesn't make sense?"

4. Build your translation bridge - Create a Context Library of language that actually lands

• • •

Ready to Build Your Context Library?

I'm putting together an on-demand workshop that walks through creating your own Context Library—the foundation that helps you find the right language for the right concepts at the right time.

If you're tired of having brilliant ideas that sound fuzzy when you explain them, this is for you. I'll keep you posted when it's ready.

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P.S. The tears do stop. Trust me on this one.