How to Trust Yourself When You Have No F*cking Idea What You’re Doing
When I decided to move from Chicago to Hawaii in early 2018, it was not a spontaneous epiphany.
The first time I went to Hawaii was in 2008, and from that day on, I knew I would live there one day. However, because I had a friend who lived there and visited her each year, I knew that the reality of living in Hawaii was much different than the vacation version.
And for that reason, I knew that a lot of people who moved to Hawaii did not last more than a year because their dreams of 24/7 vacation were soon met with reality.
So, for ten years, my dream of moving to Hawaii was in the category of “One Day.”
Until my dad unexpectedly died at age 63, and I realized that life is too short to live for “one day.” My decision was not made in haste. It was ten years of overthinking, and the catalyst was a reminder of my own mortality.
When I finally made the decision, I knew I had to be all-in, otherwise, there was a chance I would chicken out and move back to cold, windy Chicago. But I am not a quitter, so I had to make my relocation plan so solid that there was no plan B.
I sold my condo in Chicago and bought a condo in Hawaii one month after moving in November 2018. I knew this was a plan that would make my already anxiety-inducing move even more stressful. But the short-term stress seemed worth it.
There is a saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”
I am not religious, but even if you replace God with Universe, Source, or whatever, this statement is always auspicious.
A month after closing on my Hawaii condo, a shared building pipe back-flowed into my bathroom sink. I was not home.
I opened the front door and the water from the bathroom, which is the furthest point in my home from the front door, had already made its way to the kitchen.
Naturally, I immediately started to panic. Keep in mind that I had only owned this condo for a month, and only lived in Hawaii for two months. I did not have any friends, and I did not know anyone who could help me.
Fortunately, I am smart and my logical brain kicked in. I called the resident manager of the building, Mickey. He was on the other side of the island and could not get back to give me access to the dry vac for at least another hour. However, he gave me phone numbers for emergency plumbers.
Hysterically sobbing, I started calling the plumbers. Because it is an island and most people operate on island time, it did not go very well. One lady told me that they couldn’t come until the next day.
“What the f*ck do you mean you can’t come today?! I thought you were a f*cking emergency service!” I screamed at her.
Then my next thought was: I’m being an asshole. I need to get a grip.
I finally found a plumber who could come immediately. While I waited, I alternated between scooping the water filling in the sink with a kitchen pot, dumping it in the shower, and mopping the existing water off the floor with my clean bath towels.
I didn’t have any extra towels because I just moved and got rid of all my extra stuff. I knew the transition would not be easy, but that exceeded the worst-case scenarios that I had already extensively catastrophized in my head.
The week before the flood, I went to a 3-day healing intensive (which I talk about more in You’ve Had 100 Breakthroughs. So why Are You Still Living the Same Story? https://www.runninginslippers.com/blog/youve-had-100-breakthroughs-so-why-are-you-still-living-the-same-story )
I had come back, feeling all healed and ready to face the world like functional Adult Angie, no longer giving in to the triggers that made me regress into Little Angie and handle struggles like an emotionally neglected 6-year-old.
But there I was mopping up dirty water off my brand-new condo’s wood floor with my only two clean bath towels, feeling completely helpless and alone because I never have any support, nobody cares about helping me, I have to do everything by myself, and I am so sick and f*cking tired of being the strong one.
And I felt like a total f*ck-up for moving to Hawaii.
I buckled under the self-loathing, and I had a total emotional breakdown. And because my nervous system was used to regressing to Little Angie, I laid on the floor and violently ugly cried until the emergency plumber arrived.
Eight years later, I was handed the same test by Earth School.
Two weekends ago, Hurricane Lala had weakened to tropical storm status by the time it passed under Oahu Saturday night.
Because there isn’t a lot of forethought put into construction in Hawaii and the infrastructure isn’t made to deal with anything less than perfect weather, most people’s windows leak, including mine. I knew it would start raining in the middle of the night, so I proactively put up towels in all the possible leaking scenarios on Saturday before I went to bed.
Except one.
I woke up on Sunday morning to the wind howling and the rain beating on my windows. I walked out of my bedroom and into the living room, where I saw a pool of water.
Initially, I was confused because the windows in the living room were thoroughly toweled up.
That’s when I noticed the water was coming in under the front door. The only place I had never had a leak, therefore it hadn’t even occurred to me to put towels there.
In an unexpected jolt of adrenaline that I could have done without on a Sunday morning, I immediately sprang into action.
Even though I didn’t emotionally handle the first flood like a functional Adult, I nailed the aftermath. I made sure that I had extra towels for emergencies. And when I replaced my wood floor, I bought luxury vinyl, which looks exactly like real wood and is waterproof. Waterproof!
So, on Sunday morning, like a software program following code, I went directly to my laundry area to grab my extra towels and began mopping up the water. The standing water had probably been there for a few hours at that point, but it didn’t matter because my floor is waterproof. Waterproof!
It did get my area rug wet, but I reassured myself that it would dry out later.
The only issue was that I had to use all my extra towels to mop up the water, and because it was still raining, my door was still actively leaking.
I still had electricity, so I threw the towels in the washing machine and used my clean bath towels to plug the leak. Even if I lost power during the wash or dry cycle, I had blankets, sheets, and clothes to mop up the water. It wouldn’t be ideal. But I trusted myself to handle it.
I’ll say it again. I trusted myself to handle it.
When I was a little girl, I thought adults knew what was up. Like, maybe there was a rite of passage where you were given an instruction manual: How to be an Adult! A Step-by-Step, Easy to Follow Guide.
What a hilarious realization that none of us know what the hell we are doing!
I used to think being a functional adult meant having my sh*t together enough that nothing went wrong. But eventually life is going to life: the relationship you thought would be forever ends, your company announces a “strategic restructuring,” and suddenly your very stable job isn’t so stable, your car makes a noise that sounds expensive, someone you love disappoints you, or the effing tropical storm will find the ONE PLACE you forgot to put a towel.
Being an adult isn’t about not feeling your feelings. Because let’s face it, it sucks when unexpected things happen. And it’s okay to feel how you feel about it. YES AND (for my improv people)…
Being an adult is trusting yourself to figure things out when sh*t hits the fan.
We talk so much about confidence as if it means walking around thinking, I’ve got this! Everything is going to work out!
But self-trust sounds more like:
I have no f*cking idea how this is going to work out. But I trust myself to handle what happens next.
For most of my life, I was extremely hypervigilant, anticipating every possible problem, making the perfect decision, having a backup plan for the backup plan, and trying to prevent anything bad from happening in the first place.
That’s control, not adulthood.
And no amount of healing, therapy, journaling, manifestation, or personal development is going to give you enough control to guarantee that the pipe won’t burst, the relationship won’t end, the job won’t disappear, the business idea won’t flop, or that rain won’t start pouring underneath a door.
Old me believed safety came from certainty. I wanted to poll five friends, make another pros-and-cons list, consult Google, ask a psychic, pull a tarot card, and request a notarized letter from the Universe confirming that I was making the Correct Life Path Decision™.
At some point, healing has to include becoming the person you trust the most.
And the reason isn’t that you have all the answers, never panic, or you have transcended into some emotionally enlightened monk who calmly whispers “this is happening for me” while her condo fills with water.
And even if you panic, cry, get pissed off, make the wrong call, or have absolutely no clue what you’re doing, at the very least you know you won’t abandon yourself in the middle of it.
Being an adult isn’t about having life figured out (because spoiler alert: nobody does).
Being a functional adult is about becoming the woman who doesn’t need to have everything figured out because she knows she’ll figure it out.
Insight Is Cute. Now Act.
Insight without action is just information. This is something simple you can start implementing in your day-to-day life.
The next time you don’t know what to do, notice how quickly you start looking for certainty in external validation.
Maybe you text three friends, “What would you do?”
Maybe you Google the same question 38 different ways, hoping one result will finally tell you THE ANSWER.
Maybe you pull another tarot card because the first three were not what you wanted to hear.
Before you ask anyone else, pause and ask yourself:
“If I trusted myself to handle whatever happens next, what would I choose?”
Then, make one low-stakes decision without external validation.
Pick the restaurant, send the email, buy the ticket, say no, or choose the damn paint color without consulting six Pinterest boards and your cousin Stephanie.
And then, even if the decision turns out beautifully, terribly, or mediocre, don’t judge yourself or make it mean anything.
Instead ask:
“Okay. What would I do differently next time?”
Because self-trust is built by proving to yourself that even when you don’t know what the f*ck you’re doing, you won’t abandon yourself while you figure it out.
Okay, But Now What?
And if that exercise made you wonder where else an old story might still be making decisions for Adult You, money is one hell of a place to look.
If you can confidently lead a meeting but your voice suddenly turns into a six-year-old asking Mom for permission when it’s time to ask for the raise, there’s a story behind that.
Or if you undercharge and immediately offer a discount, feel guilty receiving money easily, panic after spending money you can absolutely afford, or say “My rate is $5,000?” like you’re asking the client to confirm it for you.
And you’re sitting there thinking:
Why the f*ck do I keep doing this when I KNOW better?
Because your money stories don’t just live in your bank account. They can influence what you believe you deserve, what you’re willing to ask for, and even what happens to your voice.
You don’t need another Money Magnet course, abundance meditation, or emergency tarot-card reading to determine why you can manage a $10M budget but break out in a stress sweat saying, “My desired salary is $120K.”
You need to find the story underneath the behavior.
In my complimentary 30-Minute Money Story Audit, we’ll uncover one subconscious money story that’s impacting how you earn, spend, ask, receive, and speak about money.
But we’re not stopping at:
“HOLY SHIT. THAT’S WHY I DO THAT.”
Insight is cute. But we’re changing sh*t around here.
You’ll leave knowing where the behavior came from, how it’s showing up in your life, and one practical action you can take to start writing a different story.
So the next time it’s time to ask for more, say your price, or advocate for what you’re worth, Little You doesn’t automatically get handed the wheel.
Ready to find out what the hell has been running the show?
→ Book Your Complimentary Money Story Audit: https://www.runninginslippers.com/free-resources
P.S. Your money blocks might not look anything like money. They might look like hiding your quirkiness, deflecting compliments, clenching your jaw, people-pleasing, or feeling guilty about taking a nap.
In this video, I’m breaking down 5 sneaky behaviors that could be cockblocking your money, plus one action step for each so you can actually start changing the pattern.
(Spoiler alert: I threw in an extra, so I cover 6 habits!)
👉 Watch: Trying to Make More Money? These 5 Everyday Habits Are Costing You: https://youtu.be/SIwh06YS6Pw?si=cBFZkiC8bpWHgCPG
