You Don’t Trust Yourself

You don’t lose trust in yourself all at once.

There’s no single moment you can point to.

No dramatic failure.

No obvious mistake.

It starts smaller than that.

It starts the first time you move forward while something in you hesitates…

and you decide not to listen.

Not because you don’t hear it.

Because you do.

You just don’t pause long enough to respect it.

Most people think self-trust disappears when things go wrong.

That’s not how it happens.

Self-trust erodes when things keep working ,

but you’re not fully present for the decisions that make them work.

You answer the question in front of you.

You ignore the one underneath it.

You act quickly because slowing down feels irresponsible.

You move because movement looks like maturity.

You decide because deciding feels cleaner than sitting with uncertainty.

Nothing breaks right away.

That’s why it’s easy to miss.

The outcome might even be fine.

But internally, something registers.

Not regret.

Not panic.

Just a quiet awareness that you weren’t fully with yourself when you chose.

That’s the beginning.

Self-trust isn’t about intuition.

It’s about credibility.

Do you take yourself seriously when something in you resists…

or do you override it because you’re capable and accustomed to handling things?

Over time, those overrides accumulate.

You stop checking in because you already know what the answer will be ,

and you’re not prepared to act on it yet.

So you delay.

You call it timing.

You call it patience.

You tell yourself you’ll deal with it later.

Later feels reasonable.

Later feels responsible.

Later is where self-trust thins.

Because every time you delay what you already know,

you teach yourself something quietly dangerous:

Your internal signals are negotiable.

Life often rewards that negotiation.

You stay functional.

You stay productive.

You stay relied upon.

But something else begins to shift.

Decisions feel heavier than they should.

You second-guess …not because the choice was wrong,

but because you don’t respect how you arrived there.

You replay moments.

Not for content…

for tone.

You feel the distance between what you’re capable of

and what you’re actually honoring.

Function keeps you moving.

Alignment tells you where you’re going.

When function replaces alignment, motion replaces direction…

and movement starts to feel strangely stagnant.

This isn’t fear.

It’s the unknown you avoided by acting too quickly the last time.

Alignment asks you to slow down enough to notice yourself.

That pause can feel unsafe when you’re used to being in motion.

But avoiding it doesn’t protect you.

It just postpones clarity.

You don’t stop trusting yourself because you’re incapable.

You stop trusting yourself because you keep acting without internal respect…

and calling it maturity.

This isn’t about becoming more intuitive.

It’s about stopping the habit of overriding yourself when the answer is inconvenient.

Nothing is wrong with you.

And if you’re honest,

you already know when this started.
Your grit is gorgeous.

-Maven