Confessions of a Saboteur: Breaking Free From Self-Sabotage.

There’s a moment when sabotage sneaks in quietly, like a familiar lover whispering in your ear: You deserve this. It’s okay. Just this once. It’s seductive , isn’t it?

I’ve spent a lifetime sabotaging myself. Not because I didn’t want better, but because I believed I wasn’t worth “better.” Sometimes it was because better felt too far away, too foreign, or too terrifying to even try. And sometimes, I just didn’t know how to stop. Self-sabotage is the slow erosion of dreams under the weight of fear, comfort, and excuses. It’s not the lack of strength— it’s the misguided use of strength to hold ourselves back from what we know we deserve.

I know this because I have lived this.

I’ve ignored red flags in relationships that should have sent me running. Ive chosen comfort over change, perfectionism over progress, and excuses over accountability. Ive leaned into old patterns of stress and fight-or-flight when what I really needed was to pause, breathe, and learn to trust myself again.

But this is not a story about failure. It’s about reckoning, rebuilding, and reclaiming. And if you’ve ever felt trapped in your own cycles, I hope this story reminds you that you are not alone— and that the way forward is always within reach.

The Red Flags I Refused to See

The first time I ignored a red flag. I told myself it was compassion. The next time, I called it compromise. By the third tine, it became clear: I wasn't blind to the red flags; I was choosing to look away.

I’ve justified bad behavior in men with every excuse in the book:

• He’s stressed.

• He’s not being dishonest, just misunderstood.

• I can fix this. I can be better.

But the truth was simpler and harder to swallow: I stayed because leaving felt like a failure. I stayed because admitting I deserved better meant facing how much I’d settled. I stayed because I thought love meant sacrifice— and I never stopped to ask why that sacrifice always seemed to be mine.

The Science

Psychologists call it cognitive dissonance— the mental discomfort we feel when out actions don’t align with our values. To ease the tension, we justify the unjustifiable. We rewrite the story. But no amount of justification can turn red flag into a green light.

Lesson: When someone shows you who they are, believe them. Love shouldn’t be a constant negotiation of your worth.

Journal Prompts:

• What red flags her you ignored in others— and yourself?

• If you could go back to the first moment you justified someone’s bad behavior, what would you say to yourself?

Stress, Perfectionism. and the Fight to Freeze.

I am a product of fight-or-flight. Or, more accurately, freeze. Win the pressure builds— when the to-do lists grow and life’s demands stretch me too thin—I shut down. I stand still in the chaos, paralyzed by the enormity of it all. And when the stillness isn’t enough, I reach for comfort. For excuses. For anything that lets me delay facing what feels insurmountable.

Stress is a thief, but it’s also a teacher. Chronic stress raises cortisol, disrupts our sleep, slows our metabolism, and makes us cling to comfort— food, Netflix, procrastination— not because we are weak, but because our bodies are trying to protect us. Self-sabotage in these moments isn;t failure; its survival. But survival isn’t enough. I wanted to thrive.

The Science

Chronic stress rewires your brain, making it harder to ficus, plan, and choose differently. But practices like mindfulness, breathwork, and small, consistent changes can reverse those patterns.

Lesson: You’re body isn’t betraying you. It’s begging you to listen. Sabotage isn’t the enemy; it’s the flare your soul sends up when it’s drowning.

Journal Prompts:

• What does your body do when it’s overwhelmed? How does it ask for help?

• What’s one small way you can honor your body’s needs today?

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Self-sabotage doesn’t start with action. It starts with a story.

• You’ll never succeed so why bother?

• Your’e not ready yet.

• What’s the point?

These stories feel like the truth, but they’re lies we tell ourselves to stay in the safety of knowing what we know. And the thing about lies is, if you tell the, long enough, they start to feel real.

I’ve told myself these lies in every area of my life. I’ve told myself I wasn't ready to pursue my dreams because I wasn’t perfect yet. I told myself I couldn't leave a bad relationship because what if this is the best it ever gets? I’ve told myself tomorrow wolf be the day I’d finally change— but tomorrow never came.

Here’s the truth I’ve learned: the stories we tell ourselves shape our lives. Rewriting those stories us the first, hardest step toward change.

Lesson: Every time you sabotage yourself, pause and ask: What story am I telling myself right now? Is it true? Or is it time to rewrite it?

Journal Prompts:

• What’s a story you’ve been telling yourself that no longer serves you?

• If you could rewrite that story, what would it say?

The Slow Work of Becoming

Here’s the part no one wants to hear: there’s no quick fix, Breaking the cycle of sabotage is slow, messy, and deeply uncomfortable. It’s learning to sit with your feelings instead of numbing them. It’s taking small, unglamorous steps every day. It’s failing, forgiving yourself, and trying again.

But here’s what I know: everyone you choose differently, even in the smallest way, you’re rewriting your story. You’re proving to yourself that you’re capable of change. You’re becoming.

The Well-Tuned Woman I aspire to be isn’t perfect. She stumbles.She struggles. But she faces herself with grace and refuses to give up. She knows that sabotage isn’t the end— it’s the invitation to begin again.

Your Next Chapter

If you’ve ever sabotaged yourself— if you’ve ever felt trapped in a cycles of fear, doubt, and self-destruction— let mettle you this: you’re not broken. You’re not a failure. You’re human. And the fact that you are here, reading this, means you already want more for yourself.

So pause. Breathe. Ask yourself: What’s one small step I can take today? Because the next chapter of your story is waiting. And it can be beautiful.

Journal Prompts:

Who is it that you want to become?

What’s one thing you can do today to honor him/her?

Self-sabotage may have been part of my story, but it doesn’t define it and it doesn’t have to define yours. The is where the story shifts. This is where we begin again.