What I Questioned Before, During, and After Leaving
One of the hardest parts of healing isn’t just what happened to you.
It’s what happens inside you when you finally start trying to get free.
For me, that’s looked like wave after wave of self-doubt.
I didn’t just doubt situations. I doubted my memories. My motives. My strength. My worth. My sanity. My future.
I doubted myself before I left.
I doubted myself while I was leaving.
I doubted myself after I was out.
I’m still learning that self-doubt doesn’t mean I made the wrong choices. It just means I was conditioned for a long time to trust everyone else’s voice more than my own.
This is what self-doubt has looked like in different stages of my healing.
Before I Left: Doubting My Reality
Before I moved out, I doubted my actual lived reality.
I doubted whether it was really “that bad.”
I doubted my own memories of things that were said and done, because I was told over and over that:
- “That never happened.”
- “You’re remembering it wrong.”
- “You’re too sensitive.”
- “You misunderstood.”
That’s gaslighting. I didn’t have that word at first. I just knew that every time I tried to name what hurt, I walked away more confused than before.
I doubted:
- That what I was living in was unhealthy enough to leave.
“Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe this is just how families are.” - That I would ever actually get out.
It felt impossible—like a fantasy I wasn’t strong enough to follow through on. - Whether wanting to leave meant I was a bad daughter.
I kept thinking, “If I go, I’m leaving my mom and sister there. What does that say about me?” - That I would ever not feel broken.
I honestly wondered if I was just permanently damaged and would always attract hurt. - That I would ever deserve better.
Better treatment, better love, better safety. I questioned if it was selfish to even want those things. - Whether I’d be the one to break the cycle or repeat it.
I worried, “What if I end up being abusive too? What if all this pain just turns into me hurting other people one day?” - If I would survive emotionally.
Not just “make it,” but actually live a life that didn’t feel like constant fear and second-guessing.
I was so used to my reality being dismissed that doubting myself felt normal.
The Support I Had (and Why I Still Doubted)
Before I left, I wasn’t walking completely blind. I was in therapy. I had people in my life quietly encouraging me, reminding me I wasn’t crazy, and helping me see that what I was living in really wasn’t okay.
I was in prayer at every stage.
I prayed while I was working myself up to getting out.
I asked God for clarity, courage, and confirmation.
I also had people in place whose one job was simply to encourage me:
- Friends who said, “You don’t deserve this.”
- A therapist who heavily encouraged me to leave and helped me see it was okay to choose safety.
- Support that reminded me I was not dishonoring God by getting away from harm.
And still—the voices of fear and doubt were loud.
Despite the prayer, support, and therapy, I wasn’t immune to self-doubt. Self-doubt and no confidence had been my default mode for most of my life, and it had only gotten deeper over the years. So even with good help around me, questioning myself felt automatic.
But I can also say this honestly:
Without that therapy, that prayer, and those people in place to help me, I genuinely fear where I’d be today. They didn’t erase my self-doubt, but they helped keep it from swallowing me whole.
While I Was Leaving: Doubting My Strength and Integrity
When I finally started moving out and setting boundaries, the self-doubt didn’t magically disappear. In some ways, it got louder.
I doubted if I could really do it.
- Could I actually make it on my own?
“What if I fail? What if I have to come back and everyone says ‘I told you so’?” - Could I hold my boundaries when pressure ramped up?
It’s one thing to think, “I’ll say no next time.” It’s another to feel a familiar voice or crying or spiritual guilt pulling on you in real time.
I doubted my integrity, because my abuser was emotional about me leaving.
- When someone who’s hurt you is crying or shaking or saying, “I’m trying my best,” it’s very easy to flip into:
- “Am I being cruel?”
- “Is this actually me being unforgiving?”
- “Maybe I’m the problem for hurting them by leaving.”
I also doubted the impact of my words.
- I tried so hard to communicate clearly.
- I wrote emails. I explained myself. I stated why I needed distance and safety.
But no matter how clear I was, it felt like my words never landed:
- They were twisted.
- Ignored.
- Explained away.
That made me doubt:
- “Am I not communicating well?”
- “Am I making no sense?”
- “If they say they don’t understand, does that mean I’m wrong?”
The honest truth is: I was understandable. They were unwilling.
But I couldn’t see that clearly at the time.
After I Left: Doubting My Healing
Well after I was out, self-doubt didn’t vanish. It just changed shape.
I doubted my healing when I felt myself slipping into old patterns:
- Falling back into people-pleasing.
- Wanting to downplay what happened so others would be more comfortable.
- Feeling guilty for resting, laughing, or enjoying my life.
I doubted my progress every time I had a bad day or meltdown.
- “Maybe I’m not actually healing.”
- “Maybe nothing’s really changed.”
As people bucked against my healing and pushed back against almost every choice I made, I doubted myself and felt crazy some days.
- When enough people act like you’re reckless, deceived, hardened, or unstable, it’s hard not to wonder if they’re right.
I doubted my voice.
- I wondered if anything I said or wrote could actually help anyone;
- I was scared to use my voice, especially publicly, because I knew it would upset people in the system I left;
- I worried that speaking up made me the problem.
There were times, especially in the first months after leaving, when I doubted myself simply because of the sheer number of people from my old life who:
- Misunderstood me
- Chose to believe I was living poorly
- Stayed silent or distant instead of asking honest questions
It starts to feel like, “If that many people think I’m wrong… maybe I am.”
Where I Am Now: Learning to Stand Anyway
I’m still learning that ultimately, people’s opinions are just that: opinions.
They can be loud.
They can be painful.
They can be wrong.
But at the end of the day, it is between me and God what I do with my life.
I am prayerful.
I am thoughtful.
I am as wise as I know how to be with what I’ve lived and learned.
Especially in the beginning, I had to do something really simple and really hard:
I had to start stepping out and doing the things I felt called to do before I felt confident doing them.
I had to:
- Stick up for myself, even when my voice shook.
- Keep my emotions from making the decisions when other people’s emotions were exploding.
- Force myself to think logically instead of spiraling in non-stop “what if” scenarios.
I still have to do that.
- I still have to push myself to use logic and truth instead of fear.
- I still have to lean on my support system when my brain tries to drag me back into old shame.
- I still have to be in God’s Word and in prayer all the time, not as a performance, but because I genuinely need His voice to drown out the noise.
I still doubt myself at times—but now it’s moments, not a place I live.
Slowly, as I keep stepping out, I’m gaining more confidence:
- Confidence that I really did see what I saw.
- Confidence that I’m allowed to make adult decisions.
- Confidence that God is capable of leading me Himself.
Over time, I’m more able to discern God’s voice and His will over the fears and words of others.
It’s scary. It’s grueling. It’s not glamorous.
But it’s necessary if I want real freedom.
I’m still working.
If This Hits You:
- You are not weak because you doubt; you were trained not to trust yourself.
- You are not broken beyond repair.
- You are not selfish or cruel for wanting safety and peace.
- Feeling confused doesn’t automatically mean you’re wrong; it may mean you’ve been spun in circles for a long time.
- You’re not “less spiritual” because you need therapy, support, and boundaries and still struggle with self-doubt.
- You’re not behind. You’re in process, and process is allowed to be messy.
- The fact that you’re even questioning patterns is a sign of growth, not failure.
Self-doubt is a normal response when you’ve lived in environments where people:
- Rewrote your experiences,
- Questioned your motives,
- Punished your boundaries,
- Or used God as a reason not to listen to you.
It makes sense that your brain learned to turn on itself. But that doesn’t have to be the end of your story.
Try This:
These aren’t formulas—just things that have actually helped me.
1. Write down your reality somewhere safe.
Keep a journal or document where you record:
- What happened;
- How it made you feel;
- Dates, patterns, and specific words that stuck with you.
On days when self-doubt kicks in, you can look back and remember: “No, this did happen. I didn’t just imagine it.”
2. Invite at least one safe person into the full story.
This might be:
- A trusted friend,
- A therapist or counselor,
- A support group,
- A mentor who actually listens.
Let someone see the uncut version. If their response is validating and grounded, borrow their confidence on days when yours is shaky.
3. Make one small boundary and hold it.
Don’t start with the biggest, scariest line in the sand. Try something like:
- “I’m not answering texts after 10 p.m.”
- “I’m only responding to serious conversations by email.”
- “I’m leaving the room if the conversation turns into yelling or spiritual shaming.”
Prove to yourself that you can draw a line and survive the discomfort that follows.
4. Check your decisions with God, not just with critics.
Take your choices to Him honestly:
- “God, if I’m off, show me gently. If I’m right to set this boundary, give me peace and confirm it.”
Sit with Scripture that shows His heart for the oppressed, the wounded, and the truth-tellers—not just the verses that were used to keep you quiet. Let His character be your anchor, not someone else’s interpretation of Him.
5. Notice the difference between panic and peace.
Self-doubt often feels like:
- Racing thoughts,
- Tight chest,
- Urgent pressure to “fix it now.”
Real conviction and wise caution usually feel more like:
- A steady nudge,
- A quiet “you know this isn’t right,”
- A pull toward what’s hard but healthy.
Learning that difference takes time, but it’s worth practicing.
6. Give yourself permission to be “in process.”
You don’t have to:
- Be perfectly confident,
- Never look back,
- Get every decision right on the first try.
Healing is messy. Self-doubt will pop up. That doesn’t cancel the steps you’ve already taken toward freedom.
7. One tiny brave act.
Today, that might be:
- Sending one honest text;
- Writing one page in your journal;
- Keeping one small boundary for one day.
Small steps still count.
Words You Can Borrow:
For journaling, praying, or texting yourself (or someone safe):
- “I’m allowed to question what I’ve always been told and still love the people who told it to me.”
- “Self-doubt was learned. Self-trust can be learned too.”
- “My doubt is loud, but that doesn’t automatically make it true.”
- “Needing help does not cancel my strength.”
- “I can be scared and still take the next right step.”
- “God, help me hear Your voice louder than the ones that trained me to disappear.”
- “I don’t have to feel 100% certain to walk toward freedom.”
- “My healing doesn’t vanish because I had a bad day. Progress can coexist with struggle.”
Use or adapt any of these until you find words that feel like yours.
Gentle Note:
If reading this stirred a lot up:
- Unclench your jaw, lower your shoulders, and take a slow breath.
- Drink some water. Step outside or look at something steady and calm.
- Write down one sentence that feels true for you right now—just one.
- If you can, reach out to someone safe and let them know this hit you.
You don’t have to sort your whole story out today.
You’re allowed to heal in layers, with pauses, with tears, with shaky steps.
You’re doing more than you think you are, just by letting yourself tell the truth.