Trusting Yourself When Everything Feels Uncertain

Sometimes, I’m scared of making an important decision — and I see the same fear in others. That inertia, the quiet dread, when you know something needs to change but taking the step feels terrifying. The kind of decision you orbit around for weeks or months, like you're circling something hot, never getting too close, always ready to jump back.

Should I take that job? Leave that job? Move to a new city, or stay? Keep dating that person or end it?

There Is No Final Destination

Here’s something I keep coming back to: maybe it’s not just about making the right decision. Maybe it’s about timing. Maybe something can feel perfect now and completely wrong a year from now. That doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you’re still growing.

The idea that we’ll someday arrive, at happiness, clarity, success, is a myth. Life keeps shifting. Even when you land a great job, meet a loving partner, or find the perfect place to live, you won’t suddenly become someone else. You’ll still be you, with your fears, hopes, values, and old patterns. Life will still be hard sometimes. But that’s actually good news. It means you’re allowed to keep adjusting.

You’re allowed to change course. Nothing is fixed. And every decision you make, whether it works out or not, gives you more insight into yourself and the world. You get better at noticing what feels right. What feels off. That’s growth.

Learning to Sit in the Unknown

Sometimes you have to stay in the unknown for a while, and I really mean this. Sit with the not-knowing. Let yourself be in that strange, uncomfortable space where nothing is clear yet. It’s a practice, not a punishment.

We’re so used to wanting to show the world a ‘grown-up’ version of ourselves — someone who has it all figured out. Someone successful. Someone happy. When a friend I hadn’t seen in months texted me recently and asked if I was doing okay, if I was happy, I felt a sudden pang in my chest. In that particular moment, I wasn’t fine. I was anxious from attending multiple flat share viewings, desperate for a “yes.” I felt a little lost. So, no, right then, I wasn’t happy.

But I knew what I was doing it all for. I knew that eventually, I would find a beautiful place to live. I was enjoying my newfound freedom in Berlin. I was confident in my path, even if it didn’t look tidy from the outside. And I was willing to stay in this anxiety-inducing situation because I trusted that life would not only get easier, but better. This unknown, the uncertainty, was unsettling, but I was getting better at handling it. Staying in it. Trusting the process. Taking care of myself as best I could.

Learning to stay in the unknown is a skill. A practice for life. And over time, it builds clarity.

The Wake-Up Effect of Change

But yes, some decisions feel massive. Like you’re stepping into a new life. Like waking up after a long, dark sleep. That’s not necessarily because they’re more important, but because you’re more present. Think of moving to a new city and walking through your neighborhood for the first time. Everything pops. The trees, the flowers on balconies, the smell of the bakery. You’re awake to all of it. Months later, it’s routine. The novelty fades. Autopilot kicks in.

Big decisions demand your attention in the same way. They snap you into presence. But that doesn’t mean they’ll feel clear right away.

A lot of the time, they don’t. You sit with discomfort. You wait in the unknown. Because not everything is meant for you, and knowing what isn’t right is just as important as knowing what is. That’s where your values come in. They help you sense the difference between something that shines and something that fits.

“You don’t need to worry about progressing slowly. You need to worry about climbing the wrong mountain.” — James Clear

Following What Feels Right

So how do you know if something is right for you?

I’ve lived in Berlin for seven months now. I’ve been subletting the whole time, a temporary setup while I looked for two things: a place that actually feels like home, and a job that supports me financially while still giving me space for creative work. In the meantime, I kept myself busy with training and side projects. I had countless job interviews and viewed dozens of rooms.

What surprised me was how clear the "no’s" were. Sometimes I’d step into a space or an interview and know immediately: this isn’t it. But other times, I felt stuck in the middle, confused. I’d write pros and cons lists, analyze every detail. My brain would go into overdrive. It felt like being in a crowded, overheated room — noisy, suffocating, impossible to think straight.

Then one day, I had an interview for the job I now have. I visited the flat I’m about to move into. And it felt like fresh air. Like stepping out of that hot room into somewhere calm and quiet. I could breathe. My body relaxed. My mind was still.
In both cases, the response was immediate. Positive. Simple. No back-and-forth. No scrambling. Just ease.

Decisions that seem right for me come easy. They feel light. Spacious. Warm.
Ones that aren’t? They feel heavy. Cold. Stuck.

Maybe that’s how decision-making is supposed to feel.

When Logic Isn’t Enough

All my life, I’ve tried to be more logical. I’ve been shamed for being emotional, for needing time with even small choices. My ex once stopped helping me decide what to eat altogether — annoyed by how long I took, he decided the only way for me to “learn” was by withdrawing his input. Supermarket silence was his lesson.

And I so tried to adapt. Logic. Efficiency. Pro/con lists (not for groceries though). I tried to follow other people’s advice instead of my own gut. It never worked. It felt like trying to steer through a storm blindfolded, following someone else’s directions.

But when I stopped listening to the noise and started paying attention to how I felt, I could finally see where I was going. It was never just about logic. Of course, reason matters, but your head and your heart have to find common ground. Once I truly understood that my feelings were valid, that they were signals I could trust, I stopped struggling so much with decisions. (I’d honestly love to meet my ex again, just to show him how far I’ve come. How easily I choose now. What I want to eat. Who I want to be. He’d be shocked.)

The Myth That Struggle Means Worth

Still, that ease can be confusing. We’ve been taught, subtly, but consistently, that struggle equals value. No pain, no gain. That the best things are supposed to be hard. So when something feels simple, peaceful, even joyful, we start to doubt it. “Can it really be this easy?”

But maybe that’s exactly the point. Maybe ease isn’t a red flag. Maybe it’s a sign that something fits. Without force, without drama, without overthinking. And maybe it’s okay to trust that.

I’ve started saying no to the things that keep me stuck in my head. I wait. I keep showing up, applying, working, living, while trusting that the right thing will appear. And when it does, I’ll recognize it. If it’s not a ‘hell yes,’ it’s a ‘no.

Building Self-Trust in Small Steps

Of course, I say all this from a place of privilege. I have a safety net. I could stay with friends. I could go back to an old job. That makes waiting easier. Risk-taking easier. But even with that privilege, trust isn’t automatic. It’s built.

One thing that helped me build self-trust is this: keeping promises to myself. Because if you break your own promises, how can you trust yourself when things get hard? If you say you’ll go to the gym or have the hard conversation, and then don’t, that trust erodes. If you can’t rely on yourself for small things, how will you when life is overwhelming? Start small. Show up consistently. Do what you say you’ll do. James Clear talks about this in Atomic Habits: how tiny commitments create big trust.

Three years ago, I started doing Morning Pages. And yes, I know, I talk about them a lot. But I’ve written daily for three years. That practice taught me more about myself than I could’ve imagined — and more importantly, it showed me that when I say something matters, I’ll make it happen. That’s trust.

You don’t need to journal like me. Find something that speaks to you. Maybe it’s drinking coffee without your phone. Or prepping a real breakfast. Or a daily walk. Not every habit will stick. But the ones that align with your values? Keep those. They’ll change you. That trust? That’s what helps you walk away from the wrong things, even if they look perfect from the outside.

The Power of Self-Reliance

An important note as we wrap this up: self-trust doesn’t guarantee happiness. It might lead you into uncertainty. But it gives you something better: self-reliance. Self-reliance means trusting yourself to handle life, emotionally, mentally, practically. It’s not about doing everything alone. It’s about knowing you can show up for yourself when it matters. And when you do? Life opens up. You wait longer. See more options. Breathe more freely. You learn to stay.

So: have a plan for the hard days. For when you feel scared or lonely or lost. What anchors you? For me, it’s singing, writing, dancing. Sometimes just walking. Sometimes just water.

Trust yourself. Trust life. It comes and goes in waves.
You won’t always know what the right decision is.
But you can learn to know yourself.

And maybe, that’s the only compass you’ve ever really needed.

What decisions have felt like fresh air to you? And how did you know?