The Question That Ends Self-Abandonment

Phase I: Untrapped Curiosity — treat discomfort as data

I’ve ignored signposts before.

Not the kind on a mountain trail.
The kind that shows up in your body first.

It starts small.

A tight chest when your calendar pings.
A little nausea when you see their name.
That split-second fatigue when someone asks for “one more thing.”

And then the old reflex rises up like it’s helping.

Be easy.
Be smart.
Be the one who can handle it.

So I kept walking.

I kept moving like the discomfort is drama and not data.
Like my inner signal is optional.
Like I can outwork what I already know.

Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way:

Most of my worst decisions weren’t made in confusion.
They were made in denial.

I knew.

I knew I didn’t want to take that on.
I knew the relationship wasn’t a good fit.
I knew I was forcing myself to be okay with something I wasn’t okay with.

But I didn’t want the consequences of the truth.

Because the truth comes with a receipt.

The truth might mean disappointing someone.
The truth might mean changing the plan.
The truth might mean being seen as “difficult” instead of dependable.

So I negotiated with myself.

Just get through this week.
Just don’t make it a big deal.
Just keep it together.

And listen—this is the part nobody tells high-performing women:

Self-abandonment often looks like responsibility.

It looks like answering the email late at night.
It looks like staying quiet in the meeting because you don’t want to “shift the energy.”
It looks like agreeing to what you don’t agree to… because you’re trained to survive by being agreeable.

That’s the trap.

Successful on paper.
Stuck in private.

Not because you’re broken.
Because you learned a strategy that worked… until it didn’t.

Phase I is where you stop shaming yourself for having signals.

And you start getting curious instead.

Not “What’s wrong with me?”

But:

What am I pretending not to know?

That question will change your life if you let it.

Because it doesn’t ask you to become a different woman overnight.
It asks you to stop lying to the woman you already are.

So here’s an untrapped conversation you can have with yourself in under three minutes. (inspired by the book Fierce Conversations by Susan Scott)

The Self Untrapped Conversation (3 minutes)

Take a breath. Hand to chest if you need it.
Then answer—clean, no performance:

1. What do I already know?

2. What am I pretending not to know?

3. What is this costing me—right now?

4. What would I do if I trusted myself 10% more?

Don’t overthink it.

Your first answer is usually the truest one.
Your second answer is usually the one you’ve been avoiding.

And if you’re thinking, “But if I admit what I know, I’ll have to do something…”

Maybe.

Or maybe Phase I is simply admitting the truth without forcing the next step yet.

Because curiosity is not action.

Curiosity is integrity.
Curiosity is the moment you stop gaslighting your own discomfort.
Curiosity is you seeing the signpost… and choosing not to pretend you didn’t.

Reflection prompts

• Where have I been calling my discomfort “dramatic” instead of “data”?

• What decision am I making on autopilot to avoid discomfort, disappointment, or change?

• What is the smallest “signpost” my body keeps sending—and what do I always do next?

• If I stopped pretending, what would become obvious?

One last thing.

You don’t have to be fearless to tell yourself the truth.

You just have to be willing.

Because self-trust doesn’t start with certainty.

It starts with honesty.

What are you pretending not to know right now—and what “signpost” have you been explaining away?

Tell me in the comments.