
You Know What You Want… So Why Are You Still Talking Yourself Out of It?
Why self-doubt gets louder when something matters — and why you don’t have to wait for confidence before you act
There are some things in life we genuinely don’t know the answer to.
And then there are the things we sort of know the answer to…
…but have managed to hold approximately 47 internal meetings about anyway.
You want to apply for the job.
Send the email.
Start the business.
Ask the question.
Set the boundary.
Go somewhere new.
Put yourself forward.
Try the class.
Make the change.
Or perhaps nothing needs dramatically changing at all. You just have that quiet feeling that you’d like to explore what else might be possible for you.
And then your brain gets involved.
Am I actually good enough?
What if it doesn’t work?
What if I make a fool of myself?
What if people think I’m getting above myself?
Maybe I need a bit more experience first.
Perhaps I should wait until I feel more confident.
Suddenly, something that initially felt quite exciting has become a full psychological risk assessment.
Welcome to the human brain.
When something matters, the inner critic can get louder
We often imagine that confidence works something like this:
Feel confident → take action → do the thing.
Which would be lovely.
Unfortunately, human beings are slightly more complicated than motivational quotes would have us believe.
Sometimes the sequence looks much more like:
Want something → get excited → imagine everything that could possibly go wrong → question entire personality → consider abandoning idea → make cup of tea.
And there are psychological reasons for some of this.
Our brains like familiarity and predictability. When we do something new, we don't have the same amount of information about what will happen next.
Will they say yes?
Will I be good at it?
Will I fit in?
Will people judge me?
What happens if I fail?
Uncertainty leaves gaps — and our minds are remarkably talented at filling them.
Usually without being asked.
“But what will people think?”
This is a big one.
You send a message and the reply seems slightly shorter than usual.
They're annoyed with me.
Someone looks at you during a meeting.
I sounded stupid.
You post something online and somebody doesn't respond.
They hated it.
You mention an idea and the other person pauses for half a second.
They think I'm ridiculous.
We can become so convincing at imagining what other people are thinking that we forget one fairly important detail:
We don't actually know.
In psychology, assuming we know what someone else is thinking without enough evidence is sometimes described as mind-reading.
I've recently had a very sophisticated demonstration of this phenomenon courtesy of my cat.
She was sitting beside my laptop staring intensely at me while I worked.
My brain could quite easily have gone:
She's judging me.
Obviously, she's a cat.
She's probably thinking:
Why is that laptop in my sitting space?
Or:
Is there food?
She is almost certainly not conducting a performance review of Nurture by Naomi.
But it made me laugh because we do a much more believable version of this with people all the time.
We take a facial expression, a silence, a short message or an ambiguous interaction and build a story around it.
And then we respond emotionally to the story as though it were a fact.
Knowing the psychology doesn't make you immune to it
This is something I've been thinking about a lot recently.
I have a psychology background.
I've trained extensively in coaching, including Master Spiritual Life Coaching and Energy Psychology.
I spend a considerable amount of time talking and writing about confidence, self-belief, the inner critic and fear of judgement.
And guess what?
My brain still does it too.
Very inconsiderate.
Recently I've been making a conscious effort to put myself out there more.
I've been reaching out to people.
Starting conversations.
Exploring collaborations.
Talking about workshops.
Asking about opportunities.
Saying yes to conversations where I don't know what the outcome will be.
Things I would encourage somebody I was coaching to explore if they genuinely mattered to them.
And almost immediately, my own inner critic spotted an excellent opportunity to contribute.
Are you experienced enough?
Have you achieved enough yet?
What if they think you're getting ahead of yourself?
Maybe you should wait until you're more established.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
Apparently being a coach does not come with an inner-critic cancellation package.
So I tried coaching myself
If somebody sitting opposite me said:
“I really want to do this, but I'm worried I'm not good enough yet.”
I wouldn't simply tell them:
Don't be silly! Of course you're good enough!
Because coaching isn't about me deciding what somebody should think.
I'd get curious.
What does “good enough” mean?
Who decided where that imaginary line is?
What evidence do you have that people will judge you?
What evidence might point in another direction?
What are you assuming rather than actually knowing?
What are you protecting yourself from?
And perhaps most importantly:
What do you actually want?
Those questions become considerably more annoying when you have to answer them yourself.
But useful nonetheless.
Confidence might not come first
One of the beliefs that can keep us stuck is:
“I'll do it when I feel more confident.”
Sometimes confidence does help us act.
But sometimes action is actually how confidence develops.
You do something slightly uncomfortable.
You survive it.
Perhaps it even goes well.
Your brain receives new information:
Oh.
Apparently we can do that.
Then you take another step.
This doesn't mean forcing yourself into situations that are unsafe or completely overwhelming.
It means recognising that nervous and wrong are not the same thing.
You can feel nervous about an opportunity because it matters to you.
You can feel uncertain because you've never done it before.
You can hear:
What if I can't?
…and still decide:
I'd like to find out.
The comfort zone isn't the enemy
I actually think comfort zones get a slightly unfair reputation.
Comfort is lovely.
I am personally very fond of comfort.
The problem isn't having a comfort zone.
The problem is when the desire to avoid discomfort starts making decisions about a life we actually want to participate in.
Sometimes growth is dramatic.
But more often it looks remarkably ordinary.
Sending an email.
Speaking during the meeting.
Going somewhere alone.
Applying for something.
Telling somebody what you need.
Trying something you're not immediately brilliant at.
Introducing yourself.
Saying no without producing a seven-page supporting document explaining your decision.
Small actions can give us something overthinking cannot:
new evidence.
Notice. Understand. Choose. Act.
This is becoming one of the simplest ways I think about my coaching work.
NOTICE
What is happening?
What am I thinking?
What am I avoiding?
What story am I telling myself?
UNDERSTAND
What's underneath it?
Fear of judgement?
Perfectionism?
People pleasing?
An old belief?
Fear of failure?
A belief that I need everybody's approval?
CHOOSE
Now remove fear from the driving seat for a moment.
What do I actually want?
What matters to me?
What fits my values?
Which decision feels like mine rather than one created entirely around other people's expectations?
ACT
Not:
How do I completely transform my life by Friday?
Just:
What's one realistic next step?
That might be enough.
And this is where the deeper work can begin
My approach to coaching isn't only about challenging thoughts.
My training in Master Spiritual Life Coaching and Energy Psychology has also encouraged me to think about values, meaning, identity, intuition, patterns and the relationship we have with ourselves.
I don't think “spiritual” has to mean telling somebody what to believe.
For me, sometimes it simply means becoming quiet enough to ask:
What actually matters to me?
Who am I underneath all the roles I've accumulated?
Which beliefs genuinely belong to me — and which have I picked up from other people or earlier chapters of my life?
What would I choose if fear wasn't getting the deciding vote?
Depending on the person, coaching might involve reflective questioning, visualisation, grounding, breathwork, meditation or gentle inner-child-informed reflection alongside practical goal-focused work.
It isn't about throwing every technique at somebody.
The person matters more than the toolbox.
And coaching is not therapy or psychological treatment. Sometimes what emerges needs a different kind of professional support, and recognising that boundary matters.
Who are you now?
I think this question becomes especially interesting as life changes.
Because identity isn't just about career.
It can shift when relationships change.
When children grow up.
When we become parents — or don't.
When work that once mattered stops fitting.
When we reach a different stage of life.
When we've spent years being the reliable one.
The employee.
The partner.
The parent.
The friend.
The organiser.
The person who apparently knows where everything in the house is.
And one day we think:
Hang on. What do I want now?
That isn't selfish.
And it doesn't mean rejecting the life or people you already love.
Sometimes it simply means making room for another part of yourself.
Becoming your “best self” doesn't mean you're not good enough now
I struggle slightly with the internet version of becoming your “best self.”
She seems exhausting.
She gets up at 5am.
Meditates.
Journals.
Exercises.
Drinks something green.
Has multiple income streams.
Has somehow remembered to charge the electric car.
And presumably never spends 20 minutes looking for something that's already in her hand.
For me, personal development isn't about creating a shiny replacement human because the current version isn't good enough.
It's about curiosity.
What else could I learn?
What would I like to experience?
What matters to me now?
What might I be capable of if I stopped requiring certainty first?
Self-development doesn't have to mean self-rejection.
You can appreciate who you are and still be curious about who you're becoming.
Why I'm doing it too
There is another reason I've been deliberately challenging myself recently.
I genuinely love helping people discover something about themselves.
That moment when someone who has been saying:
“I couldn't do that.”
starts saying:
“Actually… maybe I could.”
When somebody recognises that a thought they've believed for years might not be a fact.
When they understand a pattern.
Find their voice.
Set a boundary.
Try something.
Put themselves forward.
Or come back and tell me they did the thing they didn't think they could do.
That gives me enormous joy.
Not because I've changed them.
They've done that.
I've simply had the privilege of creating a space where they could explore themselves, recognise what was already there and decide what they wanted to do with it.
And perhaps there's something quite fitting about the fact that I'm asking other people to explore what's possible for them while I'm still exploring what's possible for me.
I don't think being a coach means standing at the finish line shouting instructions at everybody else.
It means being human too.
Still learning.
Still questioning yourself occasionally.
Still getting nervous.
Still hearing the inner critic.
And choosing to keep growing anyway.
Although if mine would like to take annual leave before my next important meeting, I remain completely supportive of that decision.
Before you go…
There's something I'd love you to try.
Think about one thing you've been talking yourself out of.
Then ask yourself:
What do I actually know?
What am I assuming?
What am I frightened somebody might think?
What do I actually want?
And what is one small, realistic thing I could do next?
You don't have to become fearless.
You don't need your entire life mapped out.
And you certainly don't need to wait until your inner critic gives you written permission.
Sometimes the next version of your life begins with something much smaller.
Notice. Understand. Choose. Act.
And see what happens.



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