Have you ever known exactly what you wanted to say and then somehow talked yourself out of saying it?
You had the thought.
It made sense.
You might've even started the sentence.
Then somewhere between your brain and your mouth, you started negotiating with yourself.
Maybe that's too much.
I probably don't need to say anything.
It's not that big of a deal.
Never mind.
And there it goes.
What's weird is that you weren't necessarily confused.
You knew what you thought.
You just didn't trust it long enough to do anything with it.
I think we tend to call that second-guessing, and I've always thought of second-guessing as something that happens when you're unsure.
You don't know which decision is right, so you go back and forth.
Makes sense.
But what about the times you actually do know?
You know what you want.
You know something isn't working.
You know what you need to say.
You know what your gut has been telling you for weeks.
And then almost immediately, you start building a case against yourself.
That's a different kind of hesitation.
Because now we're not really trying to figure out what we think anymore.
We're trying to figure out whether we're allowed to trust it.
I know that sounds dramatic for something that can happen in about three seconds, but think about how often we do this in ordinary life.
You decide you're going to say no to something, then spend twenty minutes coming up with reasons why you should probably say yes.
You know a situation doesn't feel right, but everybody else seems fine with it, so you assume you're overreacting.
You have an idea at work and before anybody else has even had the chance to question it, you've already found four reasons it probably won't work.
You want something different, but you can't explain exactly why yet, so you keep doing what you've been doing.
That's the one that gets me.
Because apparently knowing something without having a twelve-slide presentation explaining why can feel wildly irresponsible.
Especially if you're someone who likes to think things through.
There is absolutely value in examining what we think. Every first reaction isn't wisdom. Every feeling isn't an instruction. Sometimes we need more information. Sometimes we're wrong.
But there has to be some space between examining yourself and automatically overruling yourself.
I think I've confused those before.
I thought I was being thoughtful.
Responsible.
Open-minded.
And sometimes I was.
Other times I was collecting enough outside opinions to make myself less clear than when I started.
Have you ever done that?
You know what you think, then you ask one person.
Then another.
Then you Google it.
Then you find somebody who agrees with you, which feels great until you find somebody who doesn't.
Well, shoot.
Now we need more research.
At some point you're not gathering information anymore. You're looking for someone else to make you feel certain enough to trust what you already knew.
And there may never be enough certainty for that.
Because acting on what you know doesn't guarantee that everything works out the way you hoped.
Saying the thing doesn't guarantee the other person understands.
Making the decision doesn't guarantee you won't question it later.
Choosing a direction doesn't mean you'll never change your mind.
Self-trust can't mean I'm always right.
That would be terrifying.
I think it's closer to: I trust myself enough to listen to what I'm noticing instead of immediately dismissing it.
Then I can examine it.
Pray about it.
Ask for wise counsel when I need it.
Change my mind if I learn something new.
But I'm starting with the assumption that my own voice belongs in the conversation too.
And faith actually makes that easier for me, not harder.
Because trusting God doesn't require me to distrust myself.
If I'm asking Him for wisdom, paying attention, staying open to correction and trying to walk faithfully, I don't think I'm supposed to spend my life terrified that one imperfect decision is going to knock me completely off course.
Sometimes I think we're waiting for clarity to feel like certainty.
And it doesn't always.
Sometimes clarity is simply realizing, I keep coming back to the same thing.
So pay attention to the moment before you start explaining yourself out of what you know.
You don't have to immediately act on it.
You don't have to announce it.
You don't have to turn every feeling into a major life decision.
Just don't dismiss it before you've even heard yourself out.
There might be something worth listening to there.
Want to keep going with this conversation?
🎧 Listen to Episode 50: How Hesitation Shapes Your Direction and How to Find Steady Ground →