At the Edge of Becoming: When Self-Doubt Becomes Self-Sabotage

This post builds on themes I explored in a recent reflection on self-sabotage and belonging. But here, I want to zoom in on how self-doubt shows up in the moment: subtle, convincing, and often dressed as logic. It was written after a month of living in Puerto Vallarta.

Even a month into this new chapter in Puerto Vallarta, I still find myself sitting with a familiar feeling—one that shows up quietly, uninvited, and takes a seat at the head of the table: self-doubt.

It’s not always loud. Sometimes it disguises itself as logic or common sense. Other times, it hits like a wave: a racing heart, looping thoughts, and the sudden urge to question everything.

A few days ago, while out with new friends in Puerto Vallarta, that voice crept in again:

“Am I really cut out for this? What am I doing here? Is this new path I’m creating even viable?”

In an instant, I was pulled out of the moment and back into a familiar spiral:

• Doubts about my career path 
• Doubts about launching my blog 
• Doubts about whether I belong in this city, about my place in this world, in this version of myself I’m still trying to build

The truth is, self-doubt has been a constant companion on my journey—not always unwelcome, but generally disruptive.

The many faces of self-doubt

In the last few months, I can’t count the number of times that themes of self-doubt have surfaced in my journal or in my thoughts. It has shown up in many ways:

• Belonging: feeling like an outsider in Puerto Vallarta, in past communities, and even in my own body
• Career and purpose: questioning my decision to reimagine my career, doubting whether I have what it takes to build something new and meaningful
• Stability: craving grounding while second-guessing every decision I make. Should I stay here? Move to Oaxaca? Go back to Southeast Asia? Will anywhere ever feel like home?
• Authentic expression: the fear that if I show the world who I really am, including through this blog, that I’ll be judged, rejected, or seen as not “enough”

These aren’t new questions. They’ve followed me through 20+ years of nomadic living, career shifts, and two major relationships. 

But what’s shifted is how I relate to them.

When doubt becomes sabotage

I explored something interesting in therapy this week: self-doubt often masks self-sabotage. A way of staying safe by avoiding risk.

It’s easier and familiar to second-guess myself than to risk putting my heart fully into something. If I never fully try, I never really fail. If I reject people or places first, they can’t reject me. It’s a protective strategy, but one that keeps me from what I truly want. 

“It’s a form of self-sabotage: I’m creating experiences that validate my fear.”

This pattern of withdrawing, hesitating, or changing course before something even really begins has woven through my past, from career pivots to where I chose to live. Sometimes the self-doubt disguises itself as reason: “I’m just being cautious.” Other times it’s more obvious: “Who do I even think I am to do this?”

Choosing Something Different

Here’s a reframe that I’m trying to work with now: 

"Self-doubt doesn’t mean “stop”. It means “pause and get curious.”

Because when I look more closely, the doubts aren’t about the specific choices. They’re about trust. Do I trust myself to stay, to follow through, to try something new even if it fails?

What if self-doubt is just a signpost saying “Here is the edge of your comfort zone?” What if it’s an invitation to keep going, and not a warning to turn back?

The other night, I found myself spiraling in my thoughts again: “Is Puerto Vallarta the right place for me? Should I have moved to Oaxaca instead?”

Puerto Vallarta is not perfect, and honestly I don’t think any city is. I’m still figuring out if it’s the right fit for me long-term. But maybe that’s not the point. Maybe the deeper question is: ‍

Can I allow myself to land, not just physically, but emotionally?

Can I resist the urge to romanticize “what’s next” and instead anchor into “what’s here”?

And can I allow myself to try something new without knowing whether it will be successful? 

Because no city, no career, no relationship will ever feel like home if I don’t trust myself first.

Navigating the edge

If you’re navigating self-doubt right now, I want you to know that you’re not alone.

It doesn’t mean that you’re on the wrong path or that you’re broken.

You’re just human. And it might just mean that you’re on the cusp of something real.

The invitation is this: Don’t run. Stay, soften, and listen.

Your fear is familiar, but it doesn’t have to be your compass.

Your truth lives just beyond that edge.