Still I Doubt ~
Here I sit, the day before escrow is set to close on the sale of my house. I have signed the documents. The buyers have signed theirs. The sale is expected to fund tomorrow. And yet—I still question, will it?
The last time I sold property, it was in Montana. On the day the sale was to finalize, everything fell through. The bank rescinded the loan due to a dispute over how the appraiser valued the land versus the building. I won’t go into the details, but that experience left behind a residue of mistrust—like fine dust that lingers in the corners of my mind. It was just one more experience that added to a lifetime of disappointments and ponderings.
Yet, now I am back home in California, my belongings waiting for the transaction to complete. Soon, I’ll move to a small town along the golden chain—Highway 49—to regroup, resettle, refocus, and continue to heal. So why the doubt? Why, even when all signs point toward resolution, do I brace for collapse?
Recently, I found an article that helped me understand this pattern of questioning myself: How Trauma Impacts Self-Trust and Ways to Rebuild It. The article explains that trauma—whether from childhood experiences, abuse, or sudden crisis—can deeply undermine our ability to trust ourselves. Self-trust is the foundation of confidence and autonomy, helping us make decisions and feel safe in our own lives.
But trauma shakes that foundation. It erodes safety and control, fosters guilt and self-blame, dysregulates the nervous system, and teaches us to doubt our own perceptions. We begin to second-guess even the most reasonable choices, anticipating loss or disappointment before it happens.
I think of self-doubt like standing beside a river after heavy rain. The banks, once firm, have softened. The current pulls at the edges, carving small channels that make the ground uncertain. That’s what trauma does—it loosens the soil of our self-belief. Each time we face uncertainty, we fear the ground will give way.
Rebuilding self-trust is like tending that riverbank. You can’t rush it. The soil must dry. Roots must regrow. Over time, the land stabilizes again. Each healing act—acknowledging pain, reconnecting with your body, making small decisions, and replacing criticism with compassion—plants new vegetation along that fragile edge. With care, the earth reclaims its strength, and the river flows without eroding your foundation.
As the article outlines, healing self-trust is a gradual, embodied process:
Acknowledge and validate your experience. Recognize the impact trauma has had on your feelings and your ability to feel safe.
Reconnect with your body. Practices like breathwork, gentle stretching, or grounding exercises help rebuild the mind-body bridge.
Start small with decisions. Each low-stakes choice reinforces your agency and confidence.
Challenge negative self-talk. Replace self-criticism with affirmations of worth and patience.
Seek safe support. Surround yourself with understanding people or trauma-informed professionals who reflect back your strength.
The Firefly Therapy article concludes that self-trust can be reclaimed—with patience, compassion, and support. We can move from being defined by what happened to us, to being defined by how we grow forward.
As I wait for the sale to close, I realize this external transition mirrors an inner one. I’ve done all I can. The rest is about trust—in time, in process, and in myself.
The storm in Montana once eroded my trust, but perhaps this new chapter—the sale, the move, the faith to start again—is the slow, steady regrowth of the bank. The water still moves, but now I can see the willows taking root again. Or, at least I am trying to see the willows, to feel peace, to find trust. It is a journey; a piece of my journey that I have yet to recapture.
~ julie
If you feel so inclined, please reply with your thoughts.
Note: JM Lane is NOT a mental health professional, nor does she carry a license to practice medicine. Posts, blogs, and content are based on JM Lane’s personal experiences, perceptions, and reflections. By no means does any material convey what others should or should not do.