How to become the Kind of Person who Doesn’t Abandon Themselves

When life gets hard, what keeps you from taking the path of least resistance?

Jen Valenzuela-Sliger

7/17/20264 min read

woman looking on wall mirror
woman looking on wall mirror
How to become the Kind of Person who Doesn’t Abandon Themselves

When life gets hard, what keeps you from taking the path of least resistance?

There isn't a checklist here.

There rarely is when we're talking about becoming someone who doesn't abandon themselves.

After forty-something years of being human—and many years of sitting with clients through some of the hardest moments of their lives—I've come to believe that self-trust isn't built during life's smooth sailing. Self-trust is built in the grittiest moments—the ones where our natural instinct is to smooth things over, become someone else's emotional caretaker, or stay quiet and dismiss our own feelings.

Self-abandonment often looks surprisingly ordinary.

While the circumstances surrounding the urge to self-abandon can sometimes be dramatic, what the actual practice of self-abandonment looks like is often very, very ordinary. Self abandonment frequently looks like:

*Saying yes when you really mean no.

*Staying silent to avoid conflict.

*Dismissing your own feelings or arguing with your own right to inhabit them.

*Making yourself smaller (your needs, your essence, your voice) so that someone else can stay comfortable.

*Beating yourself up and using contemptuous language towards yourself after making a mistake.

*Asking “What should I do?” instead of “What do I actually think?”


Self-trust is also often built in small, ordinary ways.

The good news? Self-trust, which is something of the flip side to self-abandonment, also shows up in pretty ordinary ways, and can be built over time. One of the phrases I use often with clients is building a body of evidence.

We spend so much time collecting evidence against ourselves—every mistake, every regret, every moment we wish we'd handled differently.

But what if we became just as diligent about collecting evidence that we are trustworthy?

*I took responsibility.

* I stayed/came back after a hard conversation.

*I left when it was time.

*I rested.

*I told the truth when it was hard.

*I stayed when it mattered.

That is your body of evidence. Over time, those ordinary moments become proof that you can trust yourself.

What you do in those hard moments, or even moments of failure, counts most

Becoming someone who doesn’t self-abandon often boils down to what you do and how you treat yourself in those hardest moments. After a setback or even a failure, how do you respond? Do you place yourself in a moral courtroom? How quickly do you appoint yourself prosecutor, judge, and jury? We’re often harder on ourselves than anyone else could be - but this isn’t exactly the formula for building a trusting relationship, right? I’ve noticed something in my own life and in the lives of many clients. The most successful approach is often one taken from the stance of becoming your own teacher. Not only can you start to trust your own lessons this way, but I think it also helps to correctly identify yourself as a learner - not as someone who was supposed to have it all magically figured out from the start.

Looking in the mirror.

My last series of blogs, if you’ve made it this far with me, talked about looking in the mirror after getting knocked off your surfboard for the millionth time and asking yourself, So what are you going to do…stop surfing now?

In my mind, self-trust is built from learning how to spend a lot of time in front of that mirror. Taking in a long, honest look. Maybe after an extremely hard day. Maybe in the middle of an extremely hard season. Maybe after a setback or failure so severe that the mirror is the last place you’re wanting to look. But those are the gritty stares. The ones that don’t revert to shame. That don’t reach for denial. But that simply invite truth.

What is?

And how do I deal with what is?

Not what I hoped for. Not what I think should have happened. Not even what I feel might have been deserved. Just what is. And facing what IS - how do I trust myself to take the next step? How can I act with integrity in this moment - even if it’s not a moment of my choosing?

Self-trust and fear.

Let’s be clear about something, though. Self-trust does not require an absence of fear. If we had to be fearless to trust ourselves, literally no one would. Instead, this is more about how you keep yourself company in the presence of fear and uncertainty. What kind of story do you tell yourself in moments of doubt? What kind of conversation takes place in the mirror before, during, and after a huge wipeout or a significant setback? The people I know who trust themselves the most don’t always get things “right.” They simply decide they’re not going to abandon themselves or their principles when the going gets hard. This doesn’t mean never criticizing themselves or their actions - it means not running away from the mirror when that is the task at hand.

The old foe: Perfectionism

To be honest, I’ve learned that self-abandonment often looks and sounds like perfectionism, which is a very familiar struggle. Perfectionism goes something like this:

“You ruined it.”

“You shouldn’t need help.”

“You should know better.”

“See? You can’t change.”

Self-trust says something entirely different:

"Okay. That wasn't part of the plan.

Now what?

How do I face this with integrity?"

It isn't the belief that you'll never make another mistake.

It's the decision that you won't leave yourself when you do.

Maybe that's what self-trust has been all along. Not something you find. Something you practice.

Learning how to keep yourself company in the presence of fear and uncertainty.

Not leaving.

Not because it's easy.

Because you're becoming someone worth staying with.


Ready to take the first step? Email or text me! I also provide a free 15 minute phone consultation (optional) to make sure I am a good fit for your mental health needs.

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