You have crystal-clear answers for your friends' problems.
"Just break up with them. They're not right for you."
"That company isn't a place to stay. Get out."
"Just talk to your manager directly. Why are you tiptoeing?"
Strangely, the moment you say these things, they're obvious. A situation that looked hopelessly tangled from the inside is simple from where you're sitting. Take the emotion out and the answer is right there.
Then it's your own problem.
"But we've been together three years..."
"Maybe it's just not the right time yet..."
"Isn't this what everyone's life is like?"
The clarity you had thirty seconds ago is gone. Your head is crowded, your feelings are knotted, and you genuinely cannot tell what's correct.
This isn't a willpower problem. It isn't an intelligence problem. You are not unusually indecisive.
It's a problem of distance.
Two women came before the king with one child.
Both claimed to be the mother. No witnesses. No evidence to decide on.
After hearing them both, the young king said:
"Bring me a sword. Divide the living child in two, and give half to one and half to the other."