“Too Good to Use”
Many of us do this.
We’re gifted a beautiful notebook, a jumper that feels too nice, a candle we promise we’ll light one day. We save it for a “special occasion,” the right moment, a future version of ourselves who feels more deserving.
But that moment often never arrives.
The “too good” things can quietly sit there, almost making a point—reinforcing the idea that this moment, this version of us, isn’t quite good enough yet.
From a psychodynamic perspective, these objects can become symbolic. They’re often linked to an idealised future self: calmer, happier, more together. In contrast, the present self is subtly positioned as lacking. Unconsciously, this can echo earlier experiences where care, pleasure, or attention felt conditional—something to be earned rather than freely given.
In this sense, not using the item isn’t really about the object. It’s about protection. Protection from waste, disappointment, or confronting feelings of unworthiness. The object waits—and in waiting, it holds tension.
Using the “too good” thing can become a small act of repair. It gently challenges the internal rule that pleasure must be postponed and offers a different message: care is allowed now.
There’s also a physiological layer to this. Our nervous systems regulate through moments of safety and pleasure. Small sensory comforts—soft fabrics, nice smells, creative play—help shift us out of survival and into regulation. These moments aren’t indulgent; they’re supportive.
In art therapy, this often shows up as fear of “ruining” the page or hesitating to use new materials. When someone finally uses the good paper or opens the new paints, something shifts. Permission is granted—not just creatively, but emotionally.
So here’s the reframe:
Any day you are here is a special occasion.
Joy doesn’t need justification. Softness doesn’t need to be earned. Small acts—using the nice hand cream, writing in the notebook without a plan, wearing the jumper just because—carry a big message: I matter now.
Reflection Points to try:
You might like to pause and consider:
What am I currently saving because it feels “too good to use”?
What story do I tell myself about why I’m waiting?
What feelings arise when I imagine using it today?
What feelings do I have using/ wearing it?
If it feels safe enough, try using the item once this week and notice what shifts—not just practically, but emotionally.
Not because the moment is extraordinary,
but because you are already worthy of care as you are.