Welcome to The Friends Theory, where we use pop culture and story to reframe the way you see your life, work, and what you’re capable of.

This week, we’re back to Central Perk for an absolute classic.

3-minute read.

The One Where You Already Know

Insights from “The One Where Everybody Finds Out” (Season 5, Episode 14)

🎬 Picture it:
Monica and Chandler are secretly together.

• Joey knows.

• Then Rachel and Phoebe find out.

• Then Monica and Chandler find out that Rachel and Phoebe know.

• Then Rachel and Phoebe realise that Monica and Chandler know that they know.

By the time Phoebe shouts:

…literally everyone knows. (Except Ross, of course.)

Nothing new has happened.
No new facts.

Just four people (and Joey) doing mental gymnastics about what everybody else might know, think, or assume.

It’s brilliant television.
It’s also what a lot of us do with our own decisions.

Ever Been Here?

There’s usually a quiet moment, before the avalanche, where you’re actually clear:

“I know I’m done here.”
“I know I want to try this.”
“I know something needs to change.”

And then your brain goes full Phoebe-level chaos:

• “If I do this, they’ll think X.”

• “They’ll know I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

• “They’ll think I think I’m better than I am.”

• “They’ll know that I know that they know…”

Suddenly you’re not sitting with your knowing anymore.
You’re starring in your own Shakespeare tragedy about other people’s imaginary reactions.

Meanwhile, nothing in the real world has changed.

No conversation.
No action.
Just a lot of they don’t know that we know loops in your head.

When “preparing” is actually self-doubt in a nice outfit

If you’re high-functioning (hi, hello 🙋🏻‍♀️), this spiral often looks very responsible:

“I just need to be more prepared.”
“I should think this through from every angle.”
“Let me run one more scenario / draft / deck / outline.”

I know this because my brain is currently auditioning for a leading role in this exact storyline, and oh look, it got the part 🫠

Preparation is great. But there’s a line where:

Underneath, it’s usually the same story:

• If this goes badly, it means something about my worth.

• If I don’t nail it, it proves I was never actually that good.

So we keep polishing, rehearsing, and calling it “being thorough,” when really we’re trying to earn a feeling that doesn’t exist:

Total certainty.
Zero risk of looking foolish.

You can think through every angle and still feel scared when it’s time to move. Not because you didn’t prepare enough, but because doing something will always feel more vulnerable than thinking about it.

What everyone gets wrong (including us)

Back in the episode, the gang already knows about Monica and Chandler.

The gap isn’t information.
It’s action.

They could just say:

• “We’re together.”

• “We know. We’re happy for you.”

Instead, they turn it into a performance: fake seduction, exaggerated shock, everyone pretending not to know what they already know. (Yes, because otherwise the episode would be rubbish.)

We do our own version quietly:

• Pretending we “haven’t decided yet” when we have.

• Asking six more people for advice we don’t actually want.

• Rewriting the email instead of sending it.

• Creating a 37–step plan instead of taking step one.

We’re not confused.
We’re scared.

And calling it “strategic thinking” doesn’t make it less of a stall.

The uncomfortable truth

If you’re genuinely unsure something is possible for you, then sure: go gather evidence, test, research.

But a lot of the time, you’re not in true doubt. You’re in:

That quiet “I know” moment isn’t indecision.
It’s belief—trapped under layers of imagined judgment.

You know you want it.
You know you could do it.

You’re just scared of what it will mean about you if you try and it doesn’t land.

So you stay in the “refining” stage.
Not because you need more time.
Because moving means being visible.
And visible means vulnerable.

Try This On: your “we know we know” moment

This week, if you catch yourself spinning in what they’ll think land, try this:

1. Write one sentence that starts with “I know…”
   No editing. Just the first thing that comes out.

2. Underneath, dump the “they know that I know” spiral.
   Get it all out on paper.

3. Then ask:
   Is this actually doubt—or is it fear of being seen trying?

If it’s fear, you don’t need more input.
You need one tiny action that sides with the knowing:

• Send that email.

• Book that call.

• Publish that post.

• Tell one trusted person the truth.

Not because it suddenly feels safe—it probably won’t.
Because waiting won’t make it feel safer. It’ll just keep you stuck.

Final Thought

Most of the time, you’re not waiting for more information.

You’re waiting for a guarantee:
that you won’t look foolish, won’t fail, won’t confirm your worst story about yourself.

That guarantee doesn’t exist.

So you can keep rehearsing the reveal, gaming out reactions, polishing until it’s perfect…

Or you can accept that it’ll feel scary either way —
and move anyway.

You know. Move.

See you next week.
Lucy xx
aka Queen of the Reframe

P.S. If you're looking to get moving, start here👇

Thanks for reading The Friends Theory. I appreciate you so much ❤️