Gut Wrenching Lessons of Self Abandonment
When You Finally Start Listening to Your Gut (and Stop Gaslighting Yourself).
I knew it.
In the moment, in my bones, in my gut—I knew. I was revisiting a decision I’d made last year - to see if it still felt right for me to pursue or not. It did not.
But I overrode it. Smoothed it out. Talked myself down. Told myself I could make it work. That it wasn’t that bad. That maybe I was being too anxious, too needing to control everything or know all the details.
And then, over time, it unraveled.
Quietly, then loudly.
🚩 The Red Flags I Noticed (But Ignored)
I told myself:
“I’m a person of my word. I want to prove that means something.”
“I don’t need to overthink or micromanage every little detail.”
“I don’t want to seem difficult.”
“It’s pretty straight forward - I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I should be more flexible, don’t worry about stuff so much.”
“I can roll with anything, I’m easy going.”
The environment / world around me told me through:
My dog passing away - I was supposed to dog sit as part of this decision.
Delays on the way to the airport that day. Further flight delays.
A natural disaster to the region I was heading towards. (Did that stop me? No.)
Conflict and tension at home around the upcoming change - not smooth sailing.
Clients dropping off to say, no thanks, I don’t want to change my appointments.
Visual, and visceral, triggers traced back to my childhood. Images of back patio smoking and drinking of adults around me.
What Reinforced It: The Slide
The longer I ignored it, the more tangled things became:
I started doing more to hold things together, exhausting myself but trying to (and failing) to properly care for myself.
I over-functioned. Justified. Rationalised.
I was both exhausted and ashamed.
I told myself, “I got myself into this mess, I can deal with it.” and “Is it really that bad or that long? It’s only a few days, you can get through it.”
No point feeling sorry for myself. Just be practical.
There’s a slow erosion that happens when you ignore what you know, especially repeatedly. You lose access to your own inner reference point. It gets harder to hear.
And eventually, I felt like a failure, fraud and a disappointment. I’d let myself down.
💔 The Impact: On Me, and Others Around Me
I wasn’t fully present to the people I love - I had nothing else to give beyond my own survival. My fun plans out the window, inaccessible to me.
I struggled to turn up as fully as I normally do in my work.
I carried resentment, bitterness and some self attack like a quiet hum. I felt robbed.
I felt shame - “I should’ve known better”.
My nervous system stayed lit up, even in rest. Sleep was not restorative.
I couldn’t sleep. My teeth began hurting. My skin broke out. I craved sugar. I had cognitive function decline - difficulty focussing, forgetting things, seeing things to be simple.
I lost the resolve and resilience of following newer, healthier established coping strategies and resorted/ returned to older coping - overeating, binging, numbing out.
I had limited capacity to further grown and expand my creative projects which I longed to do.
I didn’t feel sexy or sexual - this part of me deemed unnecessary and felt cut off - a primitive survival choice.
I lost joy. Spark. Agency. I fell flat.
When you abandon yourself to stay in something (a role, a relationship, a system, or even a well intentioned choice) that doesn’t honour you—it leaks. The cost is rarely contained to you alone.
The Ways Out (and What Actually Helped)
I tried:
Detaching emotionally but staying physically. Distancing myself from the demands of the situation and environment - minimal contact and engagement to get through.
Pretending I was okay. Well meaning mantras that didn’t land, “I can do this.”
Instating increased self-care measures - booked yoga and a massage, got daily sunshine, ensured hygiene rituals, found a scented body butter.
Creative problem solving. “Maybe if I just close that door… Maybe just go in that direction for walking today… Maybe if I share the load with another person or two… Maybe if I half the time…?
Outsourcing decisions. Waiting for the other person involved to step up.
What finally helped:
Telling the truth.
Saying it out loud, to someone safe: “I’m not okay with this anymore.”
Making space to feel the grief of what could have been.
Returning to my body—not to fix, but to listen.
Getting still long enough to hear my intuition, and act on it.
Giving myself permission to be honest and accept what is coming for me.
Feeling support and compassion from close, trusted loved ones to validate that it’s ok to do what I need.
What I Need Now
Grounding.
Self-trust rituals. Rebuilding the intuition muscle.
No more self-abandonment in the name of harmony or fear of letting others down, or of how I’ll be perceived, or if people don’t get it.
Repair with myself before trying to repair with others. Self compassion, self forgiveness. I’m still learning (clearly!).
Slower decisions, and responses.
Follow the FIRST inkling. It’s always the right one.
Nervous system care and recovery.
What I’m Committing To
I will listen to my gut the first time.
I will not shrink to keep the peace for someone else’s pleasure.
I will tolerate discomfort in service of alignment.
I will honour the body that keeps trying to protect me.
I will choose things that feel like relief, not confusion or further chaos to sort out.
Not apologising for what I need.
… No matter how weird it seems or hard it is. Nothing is worth compromising my self stability, self security, self trust and nervous system regulation. All of which I worked so hard to uncover, build and strengthen.
If This Resonates…
You’re not dramatic. You’re not broken. You’re not precious.
You did what you could to get through. You go through it. You learned some things - new and old. You know with more certainty, clarity what your gut feeling actually feels like now. And why it’s SO important to trust her.
And next time? You’ll leave sooner. Or speak sooner. Or listen more closely. Or act sooner.
You’ll hear your gut—and this time, you’ll believe her.
