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Who Taught You That Insecurity Was a Weakness? They Were Wrong.

That pit in your stomach.


It's not a feeling. It's a signal.


I used to think it was a flaw in my wiring. This constant, low-grade hum of anxiety. The hyper-vigilance. The mental gymnastics of trying to make a story add up when the numbers just wouldn't crunch. The sheer exhaustion of trying to hold two opposing thoughts in my head at once: I am committed to this. And. This does not feel safe.


That’s cognitive dissonance. It's the brain tearing itself apart trying to find a narrative that makes sense, because it cannot live in contradiction.


For years, I treated that feeling as the enemy.


Something to be suppressed. Meditated away. Argued with. I thought my rational mind, my prefrontal cortex, was the hero who just needed to calm down the crazy, primitive alarm bell in my gut. My amygdala.


But the alarm wasn't broken. It was working perfectly.


It was screaming because it was detecting smoke. Real smoke.


That ancient part of our wiring isn't a bug. It's a feature. An evolutionary tool designed to keep us alive, to make sure we don't get kicked out of the tribe. Because for our ancestors, being cast out was a death sentence.


That anxiety is a survival mechanism.


And for some of us, our alarm system got calibrated by an unsteady hand. Inconsistent caregivers. Unpredictable love. Our systems learned early that we had to scan the horizon constantly, because safety could vanish at any moment. So our alarms are just more sensitive.


I’ve been thinking about the word ‘security’. It comes from the Latin securus. Se- meaning ‘without,’ and cura meaning ‘care’ or ‘concern.’


Without a care.


To feel secure is to be free from concern. Not because you’re ignoring the threats, but because you finally trust the system you have to navigate them.


The great lie is that insecurity is a weakness.


That we should be ashamed of it. That’s bullshit.


Insecurity is just your biology, your psychology, and your entire nervous system working in perfect concert to show you a fucking truth you are trying desperately to avoid.


The insight isn't how to turn the alarm off.


The insight is learning how to listen to it.


I struggle with this. All the time. I still have to consciously stop and ask myself: Is my mind arguing with a truth my body has already accepted?


The only thing I have to offer you is my own messy journey of learning to trust that internal signal.


It’s the only compass we actually have.


What truth is your body screaming that your mind keeps trying to argue with? Tell me in the comments.


Follow for more on this journey.


If you're ready to stop fighting your own system and start working with it, check out the program by clicking the link in my bio.


 
 
 

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