What if self-sabotage isn't actually sabotage?
What if the part of you holding back isn't trying to sabotage you, but trying to keep you with what feels familiar?

Have you ever wondered why you can know that something isn't working for you, genuinely want to change it, and still find yourself returning to the same pattern?
You know the relationship isn't healthy, but you stay.
You know you need boundaries, but you keep saying yes.
You know you need to slow down, but you keep filling every available space.
You decide you're going to change something, but procrastinate, distract yourself or find a reason not to start.
Sometimes things actually begin improving, and strangely, that's when you pull back.
We often call this self-sabotage.
But I think that label can create another layer of judgment.
"Why am I doing this to myself?"
"What's wrong with me?"
"Why can't I just change?"
Perhaps there is another question worth asking:
The familiar doesn't have to be comfortable to feel safe
We tend to associate safety with something pleasant.
But familiar and comfortable aren't necessarily the same thing.
You can be familiar with stress.
Familiar with overworking.
Familiar with putting everybody else first.
Familiar with being criticised.
Familiar with not asking for what you need.
Familiar with relationships in which you have to prove your value.
Familiar with believing you're not enough.
You may not consciously want any of these things.
But you know them.
You know who you are within them.
Change introduces something different.
And different introduces uncertainty.
So when an old pattern reappears, rather than immediately asking, "Why am I sabotaging myself?", perhaps ask:
"What does staying here give me?"
That question can be uncomfortable.
But it can also be revealing.

Healing can change more than the thing you want healed
We often imagine healing as removing something painful while everything else stays the same.
But meaningful change can have consequences.
If you stop people-pleasing, someone may not like your boundaries.
If you stop overworking, you may have to reconsider how much of your identity is attached to achievement.
If you stop needing someone's approval, that relationship may change.
If you begin valuing yourself differently, you may no longer accept situations you once tolerated.
If you stop being the person everybody depends on, you may have to learn who you are when you're not needed.
That's where healing can become confronting.
Because sometimes we aren't simply releasing a behaviour.

Who would you be without the pattern?
This is one of the questions I find fascinating.
If you've spent years being the strong one, who are you when you allow someone else to help?
If your identity has been built around achievement, who are you when you're not achieving?
If you've always been needed, what happens when you stop rescuing?
If you've defined yourself through what happened to you, who are you when that experience no longer determines your choices?
Sometimes we become so accustomed to a version of ourselves that moving beyond it can feel like losing part of ourselves.
We may consciously want change while another part asks:
Who will I become?
Will people still accept me?
What will be expected of me?
What if I change and the people around me don't?
What if life becomes unfamiliar?
Those questions don't necessarily mean you don't want to heal.
They may mean that change has a perceived cost as well as a perceived benefit.

There can be benefits to the patterns we say we don't want
This is where I think we can be willing to look without judgment.
A behaviour can create difficulties and still serve a function.
Overworking might bring recognition.
People-pleasing might reduce conflict.
Perfectionism might help you feel in control.
Never asking for help might protect you from disappointment.
Keeping people at a distance might reduce the possibility of rejection.
Staying busy might mean you don't have to sit with something uncomfortable.
That doesn't make the behaviour good or bad.
It makes it worth understanding.
Because if we only look at what a pattern costs us, we can miss why we continue choosing it.
There is often something we're gaining, avoiding or protecting.
Once we recognise that, the behaviour starts making more sense.
Self-worth can sit underneath the resistance
Then there is another layer.
What do you believe you deserve?
Not what you tell people you deserve.
What do your choices suggest you believe?
You might consciously say:
"I deserve a healthy relationship."
But repeatedly accept relationships in which your needs aren't met.
You might say:
"I deserve success."
But retreat every time an opportunity becomes real.
You might say:
"I need to look after myself."
But consistently place yourself last.
That gap is worth exploring.
Not so you can criticise yourself for it.
So you can understand it.
Where did you learn what love looks like?
Where did you learn what success means?
What did you learn you had to do to receive approval?
What qualities have you rejected in yourself?
And whose definition of "good enough" are you still trying to satisfy?
Healing isn't becoming a better version of yourself
I think this is one of the biggest misconceptions around personal growth.
Healing can easily become another project of self-improvement:
I'll be worthy when I'm healed.
I'll love myself when I've fixed this.
I'll be successful when I'm more confident.
I'll finally be enough when I stop doing this.
But notice what sits underneath all of those statements.
I'm not enough as I am.
And then we try to heal ourselves from a starting point of rejecting ourselves.
What if healing isn't about becoming someone better?
What if it's about understanding the judgments, perceptions and experiences that created the belief that you needed to be someone else in the first place?
Instead of asking "What's wrong with me?"
Try asking:
What am I protecting?
What am I afraid might change?
What does this pattern give me?
What might I lose if I let it go?
Who might I disappoint if I change?
What identity have I attached to this?
What judgment am I making about myself?
And who would I be if I no longer needed this pattern?
You may discover that what you've been calling self-sabotage isn't quite as irrational as you thought.
There may be a reason you've held onto it.
Understanding that reason doesn't mean you have to keep the pattern.
It simply means you can stop fighting yourself long enough to understand why it's there.
And perhaps that's where healing really starts.
Not with judgment.
With understanding.
Liefde Wellness Centre
57 Harnett Drive, Seaford VIC 3198
www.thenaturalhealthoption.com.au


