The Childhood Memory That Programmed Me to Self-Sabotage

…And How I’m Rewriting the Code

Photo by Quino Al on Unsplash

I (Sophia) couldn’t understand why I kept abandoning my dreams. The answer was 30 years old, hiding in a hallway, listening to my mom on the phone.

I thought my problem was time management.

I’d devoured every book, every blog post. I’d tried every productivity hack. For years, I’d cycle through the same pattern: I’d start a project with fiery passion. For three, maybe four days, I’d feel incredible—aligned, purposeful, and satisfied.

Then, without fail, I’d abandon it.

Something “more important” would pop up. A website bug that had to be fixed. An inbox that needed to be zeroed out. I’d tell myself a very logical story: “Let me just tie up all these loose ends. I need a clear mind and a clean slate to do my real work.”

But by the time the slate was clean, my energy was gone. My real work—the writing, the recording, the creating—never happened.

I blamed my willpower. I thought I was lazy, undisciplined, a dreamer who couldn’t execute.

I was wrong. My willpower was fine. It was being held hostage by a story written decades ago. It took a 100-year-old book by Émile Coué to make me look for the puppeteer. He introduced me to the ruthless power of the subconscious mind, which he called the imagination:

“Not only does the unconscious self preside over the functions of our organism, but also over all our actions. It is this that we call imagination and it is this which contrary to accepted opinion always makes us act even and above all against our will when there is antagonism between these two forces.”

My will wanted to create. But a stronger force was making me act against it.

It took a moment of deep honesty to find the source of that force: a young girl, standing in a hallway, listening to her mom on the phone.

I was that girl. I had ranked second in my class for years, and I was proud. I worked hard. I knew who was first, and I was genuinely happy being second. It felt like my place.

Then I heard my mom’s voice, tinged with a disappointment I’d never heard directed at me: “Oh yes, she again has only ranked second.”

The air left my lungs.

The message my heart received was catastrophic: Your best will never be good enough. The highest effort you can possibly muster will still be a disappointment.

So, my brilliant, young mind made a survival decision: If you can’t win, don’t play the game. If your best is a failure, never give your best.

It created a saboteur, a protector, whose sole job was to ensure I never put my whole heart into anything ever again. That way, I could never feel the crushing pain of my “best” being found wanting.

For 30 years, I didn’t know this protector existed. But she’s been running the show ever since that day in the hallway. She made me a puppet, and I never even saw the strings. Coué saw them clearly:

“We who are so proud of our will, who believe that we are free to act as we like, are in reality, nothing but wretched puppets of which our imagination holds all the strings.”

Her strategy is genius: Productive Procrastination.

When I start getting too close to my heart-work—the work that matters so much it could be deemed “my best”—she swings into action. She doesn’t tell me to be lazy. That would be too obvious.

Instead, she makes me productive. She creates a compelling, logical, and urgent case for doing everything except the important thing.

  • “You can’t write an article with a messy website! Fix it first!”

  • “How can you record a video with unorganized files? Organize them first!”

  • “Your inbox is full! You can’t possibly focus with that hanging over you.”

She is the ultimate Streamliner. Her justification is always about creating the “perfect conditions” for genius to strike.

But her real mission is to run out the clock. To ensure I never, ever put myself in a position where I risk giving my best effort and having it be “only second.” Because if I don’t truly try, I can’t truly fail. I had believed so proudly in my free will, but Coué was right:

“If we open a dictionary and look up the word ‘will’ we find this definition: ‘The faculty of freely determining certain acts’. We accept this definition as true and unattackable, although nothing could be more false, this will which we reclaim so proudly yields to the imagination. It is an absolute rule that admits of no exception.”

How I’m Learning to Fire the Protector

You don’t defeat this kind of deep programming with a new planner. You defeat it with compassion and conscious reprogramming. The goal is not to fight the imagination, but to guide it.

“We only cease to be puppets when we have learned to guide our imagination.”

  1. Acknowledge the Protector with Love. I don’t fight her anymore. When I feel the urge to suddenly reorganize my entire life, I stop. I say, “Thank you. I see you. I know you’re trying to protect me from that old hurt. Your job is done now. I’ve got this.” Acknowledging her presence disarms her.

  2. Redefine “Winning.” The child’s definition was: Winning = Being The Best (First Rank). My new definition is: Winning = Showing Up Authentically. My worth is not tied to an outcome—a ranking, a viral article, a number of subscribers. It is tied to the courage of creating and sharing. This reframes the entire game.

  3. The “Good Enough” Rule. I actively practice doing things “good enough.” I send the email with a typo. I post the video with imperfect lighting. I publish the article that feels 80% there. This is direct action against the old program. It’s a rebellion against the need for a flawless “best.” It proves to my subconscious that the world doesn’t end when things aren’t perfect.

  4. The New Autosuggestion. My Coué mantra is no longer about time or joy. It’s about identity and safety. I repeat, every morning and night: “My best is more than enough. I am safe to share my voice with the world.”

This is how we rewrite the code. Not with force, but with a gentle, persistent persuasion of our deepest selves. We thank the old protector for her service, and we finally, gently, take back the strings.

What’s a story from your past that you know is still running your present? Sharing it, even just in the comments, can be a first step in rewriting it.


All indented quotes in this article are from Coué’s book Self Mastery Through Conscious Autosuggestion*. If you’d like to read up on Coué’s wisdom yourself, feel free to explore it. It’s quick to read, a true classic, a treasure for life!

(*Amazon.com affiliate link: If you choose to click it and make a purchase, we may earn a small commission.)


This journey of untangling our past from our present is what we explore in the Simple and Aligned Newsletter. It’s about building a life and business that feels good because it’s run by the adult you, not the child who got hurt. Join us here for more.

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How a 400-Year-Old Poet Taught Me to Quit My Grind and Trust My Breath