The Hidden Setback: When Self-Doubt Hits Harder Than the Fall
Some setbacks are obvious. You trip, you fall, you get up, dust yourself off, and—if anyone saw—casually pretend that’s exactly what you meant to do. No big deal. Just part of the plan. You’re totally in control.
I was living in Pennsylvania some years ago, and one of my favorite weekend escapes was driving through Lancaster—a place where time slows down, the farmland stretches forever, and the Amish homes look like postcards from a simpler, more sensible era. It reminded me of my childhood growing up on a farm, back before adult responsibilities and the realization that tractor fuel is not free.
No matter the season, I’d spend weekends wandering the back roads, camera in hand, snapping pictures like a nature-obsessed paparazzo. But this particular weekend? Oh, this was next-level. A foot of fresh snow had turned the entire landscape into a photographer’s dream. White, pristine, untouched—exactly the kind of scene that makes you risk frostbite and questionable decision-making just to get the perfect shot.
And that’s how I found myself at an old mill by a creek, ready to capture winter’s majesty in all her frozen glory. I was crossing a bridge, absorbed in the moment, when I stepped just a little too close to the edge. And by “a little,” I mean my right leg vanished into the abyss of snow, leaving me stuck to my hip like a human popsicle.
Now, at this point, a rational person might pause and evaluate their options. Maybe call for help, maybe weigh the likelihood of frostbite.
But me? Oh no. That would make too much sense.
Instead, I heard the sound of a car approaching.
My worst nightmare. Witnesses.
A smart person might have waved them down and asked for help. Maybe admitted, “Hey, so funny story—I am, in fact, stuck.”
But no. Not me.
Seeing the car coming, I did what any self-respecting, dignity-preserving, mildly delusional person would do: I lifted my camera to my eye and started taking pictures.
Oh yeah, this was intentional. Just me, fully committing to an ‘immersive winter photography experience’—literally. A true artist at work. Nothing to see here, folks. Keep driving.
Did it work? Who knows. The car drove past, and I’d like to believe they thought, “Wow, look at that dedicated photographer, risking life and limb for the perfect shot.” But realistically? They probably just thought, “That woman is stuck. And also possibly insane.”
And then came the next problem: The car was gone. And I was still stuck.
No witnesses, no excuses. Just me, flailing like a snow-covered turtle, trying to figure out how to get my leg back into the realm of the living.
So, naturally, I did the only thing left to do: I rolled.
Yep. I rolled myself backwards like some kind of majestic, uncoordinated snow angel—flopping and floundering until I was finally free. Then, like nothing happened, I stood up, dusted myself off, and told myself I had fooled EVERYONE.
Because obviously, I meant to do that. Right? Right.
Be Honest—You’ve Done This Too
Now, maybe you haven’t been hip-deep in snow, but tell me you haven’t done something equally ridiculous.
Tell me you haven’t messed up, panicked, and immediately committed to the bit like your life depended on it.
Ever tripped over nothing and then turned it into a weird little jog to pretend you totally meant to do that?
Ever sent an email too soon and then tried to play it off like you weren’t mid-sentence?
Ever completely miscalculated a step and then looked back at the floor like it was the problem?
Yeah. We’ve all been there.
Some setbacks are minor embarrassments. Some are bigger, life-shifting moments. But either way, what really matters isn’t whether you pretend you meant to fall—it’s what you do after you get back up.
So, here’s my question for you:
What’s the best “I totally meant to do that” moment you’ve ever had? Share it with me—because if I had to roll my way out of a snowbank, the least you can do is make me feel like I’m not alone.
But then there are the other setbacks. The kind where you don’t just fall—you sit there staring at the ground, questioning every life choice that led you to this moment.
➡ “Maybe this is proof I’m not meant for this.”
➡ “I should just stick to what’s safe.”
➡ “What if I’m just wasting my time?”
And just like that, a small misstep mutates into a full-blown existential crisis.
Here’s the thing: most people don’t stay stuck because they fell. They stay stuck because their own brain convinces them to set up camp in failure valley instead of getting back on the trail.
Your Brain is a Master Manipulator (And You’re Its Favorite Target)
If self-doubt had a spokesperson, it would be that little voice in your head that whispers garbage like:
- “You don’t really belong here.” → “Oh, so now my brain’s an expert on who belongs where? Interesting.”
- “Someone else is doing this better.” → “Cool, Brenda, but someone else is also doing it worse. Let’s focus on that for once.
- “Remember that one embarrassing thing you did 12 years ago? Let’s relive that for fun.”
Your brain is running a program based on past experiences, subconscious fears, and—let’s be honest—a little too much people-pleasing nonsense that got baked in along the way.
And what does it do with setbacks? It collects them like weird little trophies, waving them around as proof that you should just quit while you’re behind.
But here’s what’s actually happening: Setbacks don’t mean you’re not good enough. They just mean you’re doing something big enough to get tripped up on.
The problem isn’t the fall—it’s what you do afterward.
How to Stand Back Up (For Real This Time)
Since your mind believes whatever you tell it most, let’s make sure you’re feeding it something that actually works.
1. Call Out the Thought Spiral (Before It Calls the Shots)
Your brain is dramatic. It loves turning minor inconveniences into life-ruining catastrophes faster than a reality TV show. Time to flip the script before your brain turns this into a tragic saga.
So, when that first thought pops up—“What if this means I’m not cut out for this?”—try this instead:
✔ Say—out loud— “Huh. Interesting theory. Let’s file that under ‘Things That Are Not Actually True.’”
✔ Physically move. Stand up, change scenery, go full superhero pose (science says it actually works).
✔ Interrupt the spiral with a ridiculous question like, “What would a moose do in this situation?” (Your brain can’t spiral and think about moose strategy at the same time.)
Why This Works:
Your brain runs on patterns. If you interrupt the pattern, it has to reset—giving you a chance to reclaim control before self-doubt takes the wheel.
2. Reframe the Setback Before Your Brain Turns It Into a Life Sentence
Your brain is great at taking one bad moment and deciding that’s just who you are now.
- Missed an opportunity? “Guess I’m just not good at this.”
- Struggled with a challenge? “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”
- Forgot to bring coffee to a meeting? “This is why no one takes me seriously.” (By the way, if we are ever in a meeting together, please don’t forget to bring the coffee. )
Sound familiar? Yeah, time to shut that down.
Instead, ask yourself:
✔ “What did this teach me that I didn’t know before?”
✔ “How is this redirecting me to something better?”
✔ “If success was guaranteed, what would I do next?”
Why This Works:
Your brain is wired to answer whatever question you ask it. So instead of asking “Why am I such a failure?”, force it to look for proof of progress instead. The proof is there.
3. Take One Tiny, Possibly Ridiculous Action
Action is the ultimate buzzkill for overthinking. The moment you do something, your brain has to shift gears.
- Send the email.
- Write the first sentence.
- Research the next step (for five minutes, not five hours—we know how that goes).
Because the longer you sit in hesitation, the more time your brain has to convince you to give up entirely.
Why This Works:
Taking action creates momentum, and momentum kills self-doubt. Even the tiniest step proves to your brain that you’re still in the game.
4. Act Like You Already Belong
You know those people who seem like they always know exactly what they’re doing?
Spoiler alert: They don’t.
The difference? They’re not waiting for permission to show up. They’re not waiting to feel ready.
🚀 They move before they feel 100% sure.
🚀 They show up before they feel “qualified.”
🚀 They act like they belong, and the world eventually agrees.
That’s it. That’s the secret.
What’s going on here:
Your brain follows identity more than logic. If you start acting like you belong, your mind (and everyone else) will start believing it too.
The Truth About Success (That No One Talks About)
Most people don’t quit because they can’t do something. They quit because they convince themselves they aren’t the kind of person who succeeds at it.
But here’s the truth:
✔ You don’t have to feel ready—you just have to move.
✔ You don’t have to be perfect—you just have to keep going.
✔ You don’t have to prove yourself—you just have to refuse to quit.
Setbacks don’t define you. What you do next does.
So stand back up. And if your brain tries to tell you otherwise?
Remind it who’s in charge.
🔥 Your Next Move:
Listen, friend. Setbacks will test you. They’ll knock you sideways, leave you questioning everything, and whisper lies about your worth. But here’s the truth: you are bigger than the fall. The only thing that defines you is what you do next.
So, what’s a moment that almost took you out—but didn’t? The time you could have stayed down, but instead, you rolled, crawled, clawed, or laughed your way back up? Setbacks don’t get the final say. You do. So what’s one time you could have stayed down, but didn’t? Drop it in the comments, share this with a fellow trailblazer, and let’s make resilience louder than self-doubt.
Because the truth is, you weren’t made to blend in. You were made to stand out, stumble forward, and own every damn step of it.
Unapologetically you. Unapologetically unstoppable.
With gratitude (and slightly bruised dignity) from the snowbank,
~kk