“There’s something very romantic about self-destruction and sabotaging your life, and taking a hammer to it.” —Gerard Way
January 2nd was a big day for me. Not because I achieved a major milestone or ticked off a lofty New Year’s resolution, but because my goals were still alive—a minor miracle in itself. At the moment, I am operating off a to-do list and will sit down when I’m ready to decide what this year is about. But let me tell you about yesterday when self-sabotage chose to make an appearance.
Yesterday, I went to my favourite store. Not the shoe store, mind you, but the stationery store. Yes, Officeworks was my destination as I embarked on an important mission: printing the first draft of my manuscript. It’s been sitting untouched since November 30, 2024, and I finally felt ready to pick it up again. When the staff handed me my bound draft, I did a little happy dance right there in the store.
After reading the synopsis aloud to my husband, who assured me I’d written a literary masterpiece (bless him for his unwavering support), I returned home, ready to conquer the world. Or so I thought. Instead, I sank into the couch and watched mindless TV while playing a game on my phone. Hours disappeared into the abyss of cookie-matching levels. Dinner was a half-hearted affair of cheese, crackers, and ice cream. Before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep on the couch—something I deliberately tried to prevent by buying uncomfortable to sleep on couches—only to wake up with a stiff neck and retreat to bed, where insomnia waited with open arms.
Self-sabotage at its finest—like showing up to a marathon in thongs and hoping for a gold medal.
I am the queen of it, and if you’re still reading, I suspect you might relate. We all do it to some extent. Whether it’s procrastination, avoidance, or distraction, these patterns derail us from what truly matters. If I’m going to succeed at any of my goals this year, this is a cycle I need to break. And the only way forward is to embrace what I call the “tightrope of hope”—balancing between luck, chance, and the willingness to do the hard work.
Walking the Tightrope of Hope
The phrase “tightrope of hope” came to me as an image: me, blindfolded, walking a tightrope, hoping against hope to get things done while ignoring the patterns of self-sabotage below. It’s precarious, uncertain, and often terrifying. The tightrope symbolizes that delicate balance between action and avoidance, between dreaming big and stumbling into distraction. It’s where hope meets hard work—and where change becomes possible.
The Anatomy of Self-Sabotage
Self-sabotage is insidious. It disguises itself as harmless indulgence: one more episode, one more game, one more day of avoidance. It whispers that tomorrow will be different. For me, it’s the endless distractions that fill my time while my goals gather dust. And yet, it’s not about laziness—it’s about fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, fear of the unknown.
When I spoke with my psychologist last year, she helped me see that these habits often serve as distractions from “feeling the feels.” They’re shields against discomfort, protecting me from vulnerability and the risk of facing my own expectations.
A Lightbulb Moment
This morning, determined to dig deeper, I turned to a technique taught by my mentor, Nicole Cody: dialoguing with my inner child through left- and right-handwriting. My dominant hand posed the question, and my non-dominant hand, in a different colour, responded. I expected fear to surface—fear of failure, fear of not being good enough, fear of disappointing myself.
Instead, my inner child took me back to the summer holidays, where boredom reigned supreme. Days were spent hanging upside down on fences or inventing games with neighbourhood kids. We’d play Bedlam, a chaotic game that involved hurling a ball at each other as hard as we could—imagine dodgeball but with fewer rules and more chaos. Or we’d ride our bikes down the “hill”—which, in hindsight, was more of a gentle slope but felt like a sheer drop to our fearless younger selves. Those moments of “doing nothing” birthed creativity and a kind of reckless confidence. The fear I uncovered wasn’t about failure but about emptiness.
WHAT IF I’m now an empty vessel? WHAT IF the well of creativity has dried up?
And then, a tiny voice whispered, “WHAT IF the opposite is true? WHAT IF you find a hidden reservoir of dreams, ideas, and talents waiting to be rediscovered?”
That voice shifted everything. Suddenly, my couch time became a metaphor for hanging upside down on the fence—an essential pause before the muse strikes. The problem isn’t lying on the couch; it’s the way I fill that space with distractions that heighten my anxiety.
Reconnecting with the art of doing nothing is key.
Strategies for Taming Self-Sabotage
Breaking the cycle of self-sabotage isn’t easy, but here are some steps I’m taking:
- Awareness: Recognize when you’re engaging in self-sabotaging behaviour. For me, it’s the endless games or mindless TV.
- Journaling: Write down your thoughts and fears. Techniques like left- and right-handwriting can help uncover deeper truths.
- Time-Blocking: Allocate specific times for meaningful work and stick to them.
- Mindful Rest: Embrace moments of stillness without filling them with distractions. Let creativity emerge naturally.
- Accountability: Share your goals with a trusted friend or partner who can help keep you on track.
Your Turn: Let’s Talk About Hope
How about you? What are the patterns or habits that hold you back? How do you navigate your own tightrope of hope? Have you found ways to confront self-sabotage and embrace meaningful action?
Let’s spark a conversation and support each other in stepping into our best selves this year.
