Let’s talk about that thing.

You know the one.

You’re right on the edge. The energy is hot. The vision is clear. You’re vibing like Beyoncé with a quantum physics degree. You can feel it—this is the breakthrough. The launch. The raise. The relationship shift. The post that finally says the real thing.

And then suddenly… you’re deep-cleaning your spice drawer or doomscrolling LinkedIn for jobs you’d rather eat glass than apply for.

What just happened?

You weren’t tired five minutes ago. You weren’t confused. You weren’t doubting the vision. So why did your momentum evaporate the second it started working?

Here’s the part most people get wrong.

You’re not afraid of failure.

You’re afraid of what happens when it actually works.

Because your system is still coded for chaos.

Success, safety, flow—those aren’t neutral upgrades to your nervous system. They can feel like foreign planets you don’t have a passport for. If you grew up navigating unpredictability, criticism, instability, or high pressure, your body learned something important: tension equals normal. Hypervigilance equals safety. Struggle equals identity.

So when things get smooth? When doors open? When you start to win?

Your nervous system goes, “Abort mission. This is unfamiliar. Unfamiliar is unsafe.”

And right when you’re about to land the thing, sign the deal, launch the post, speak the truth, raise the price, make the move—you trip the emergency brakes.

Not because you’re weak. Not because you’re broken.

But because a part of you believes:

If I go all the way in, I might not come back the same.
If I win, I might lose everything I love.
If I get too powerful, I’ll become someone I don’t recognize—or worse, someone they won’t love.

So you stall.

You procrastinate.
You overthink.
You start a new project instead of finishing the one that matters.
You “research” instead of act.

And then you label it self-sabotage.

But here’s the reframe.

You’re not sabotaging.

You’re self-protecting.

You’re running outdated code written by a past version of you who just wanted to survive the week without imploding. That version did her job. She kept you safe. She learned the patterns. She built the armor.

But you’re not that version anymore.

And those safety scripts? They’re not safety. They’re a straitjacket with glitter on it.

You are not “almost” energy.

You are inevitability pretending to be hesitant.

The shift starts here: notice the exact moment you pull back when it’s getting good. The second the yes comes in. The second the numbers climb. The second someone powerful says, “Let’s do this.”

Don’t judge it. Don’t shame it.

Name it.

“Ah. There’s the part of me that thinks expansion equals danger. Cute.”

That tiny bit of awareness is everything. Because once you see it, you’re no longer unconsciously obeying it.

Then choose again.

Text the person.
Post the thing.
Say the number.
Make the move.

Not because you feel perfectly ready. Not because the fear disappeared.

But because you’re done auditioning for permission.

The next version of you already knows how this ends. She’s not hesitating. She’s moving like the outcome is already coded into her DNA.

And it is.

So the next time you catch yourself reorganizing your spice rack instead of stepping into the breakthrough, don’t spiral. Smile. You just found the edge of your expansion.

And this time?

Step over it.