How I Learned to Stop Doubting Myself (Even as a Stay-at-Home Mom)
Self-doubt didn’t leave on its own. I had to unlearn it. And here’s how I did.
You’d think after raising two children for over a decade… I’d feel confident.
Like I’ve earned some invisible badge of “you’re doing it right.”
But for the longest time, I didn’t.
I second-guessed everything.
How I parented.
How I looked.
How I spoke.
Even how I cleaned the house.
It was subtle, like background noise I couldn’t mute.
I’d wonder:
“Am I doing enough?”
“Did I ruin their day?”
“Why am I like this?”
“Why can’t I be more like them?”
“You’re falling behind.”
And for me—as a stay-at-home mom—it became my background music.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was stuck in a loop that Mel Robbins describes perfectly: “self-doubt is a habit.” Not a personality trait. Not who I am. Just a learned response I repeated so often, it became my default.
And if it’s a habit, it can be unlearned.
That changed everything.
I didn’t always feel this small.
I used to be ambitious. Outgoing. Capable.
I got myself into college, worked hard, earned scholarships, and studied computer science in a country I didn’t even grow up in.
I did that.
But somewhere along the way — maybe after having kids, or maybe earlier — my self-trust started slipping.
I became a mother. A stay-at-home mother in a foreign country.
And slowly, without even realizing, I began to shrink.
Not in physical space, but in my inner voice.
I remember sitting across from my working friends—women I admire, women I love. They were talking about their projects, office drama, travel plans, finance, politics.
And I had… nothing to say.
Not because I wasn’t smart. Not because I didn’t care. But because I’d spent the last 13 years in a world of meal plans, tantrums, solo parenting, and trying to hold everything together.
I couldn’t keep up with the pace of their lives. I couldn’t join their conversations. So I just smiled. Stayed quiet.
And then the doubt would show up: “Have I disappeared?” “Why can’t I be more like them?” “Did I waste all my potential?”
I stopped sharing my opinions out loud because people looked surprised when I did.
I stopped dressing up because I thought, “What’s the point?”
I stopped believing my ideas mattered because no one asked me about them anymore.
And when my husband worked abroad for years, and I was parenting alone —
I had no one to say, “You’re doing amazing.”
No one to reflect back my strength, my resilience, or the invisible labor I was carrying.
So I did what many moms do:
I performed.
Smiled when I was tired.
Cleaned until it looked like I wasn’t overwhelmed.
Told myself I was “fine” even when I wasn’t.
“Self-doubt isn’t something you have. It’s something you do.”
— Mel Robbins
That hit me.
Because I realized: I wasn’t broken. I was practicing doubt like a habits.
Every time I stayed silent… Every time I told myself I wasn’t enough… Every time I compared my life to theirs…
I was rehearsing my own irrelevance.
And habits? They can be changed.
Let’s Talk About the Ache
The ache of watching your friends succeed and feeling left behind.
They built companies. They built wealth. They built names.
Meanwhile, I built... A home. A childhood. A quiet life no one clapped for.
"Some moms didn’t build businesses or write books this year.
They built safe homes.
They held space for big feelings.
They survived one impossible day after another.
No, it’s not on a resume.
But it’s written in their children’s sense of safety.
And that counts for something. For everything."
I read those words again and again until they started to sink in.
My motherhood—quiet, invisible, messy—was still deeply valuable. Even if the world didn’t notice. Even if I didn’t have a title or salary or milestones to show.
I come back to these words whenever I forget who I am.
What I Used to Think:
Self-doubt = humility
Confidence = arrogance
Motherhood = sacrifice
But none of that is true.
Here’s what I learned (and unlearned):
1. Self-doubt is not humility. It’s self-abandonment.
I used to think doubting myself was noble.
Like it made me less prideful or more “realistic.”
But the truth is, constantly questioning myself wasn’t humility — it was fear.
Fear of being wrong. Fear of being judged.
Fear of being too much or not enough.
Now, when I feel doubt creep in, I ask:
“Is this thought helping me show up better… or hide smaller?”
If it’s the latter, I let it go.
2. Confidence is not something you feel. It’s something you build.
Confidence doesn’t come before the action.
It’s built through action — small, daily moments of courage.
So I started small.
I said “no” without explaining why.
I posted my writing even when I was scared no one would care.
I made eye contact again.
I wore lipstick, not for anyone else — just to feel like me.
It didn’t feel magical at first.
But little by little, I began to trust myself again.
Not because I did everything right.
But because I kept showing up.
3. You can’t wait for permission to believe in yourself.
No one was going to knock on my door and hand me a certificate that said,
“Congratulations! You’re a good mother now. You may now feel proud.”
That’s not how it works.
If you want to stop doubting yourself, you have to decide:
Your voice matters. Your presence matters. Your life matters.
Even if no one claps for you.
Even if it’s invisible.
Even if you don’t always get it right.
4. You don’t need to match the world’s definition of success.
The world loves shiny things. Promotions. Status updates. Titles. Numbers. Results.
Success, for me, now looks like showing up. Like making it through a tough afternoon without yelling. Like teaching my kids emotional safety, even when I’m not feeling safe myself.
I’m raising humans—with compassion, patience, and presence. That doesn’t belong on a CV. That’s not a LinkedIn skill. But it shapes the future. And that’s legacy.
Sometimes I still scroll and wonder what it would be like to “have it all.” A job. A big income. That validation. But then I remember: I already have everything that matters.
5. Self-doubt thrives in isolation.
I kept thinking I was the only one stuck in this loop. I thought something was wrong with me.
But when I started sharing my story—through posts, honest conversations online, I found many voices that said, "Me too."
We were all carrying the same invisible ache. And suddenly, I didn’t feel so small anymore.
6. You can rewrite the story.
Not overnight. But gently. Daily. With words. With compassion. With awareness.
“Talk to yourself like you would to someone you love.”
— Brené Brown
That’s the mantra I now live by.
7. Stopped Waiting.
I used to wait for someone to tell me:
I’m doing a good job.
I’m smart.
I matter.
I waited for praise that never came. From my kids, who are too young to know what I sacrifice. From my partner, who assumed I had it all under control (and sometimes he will praise me if I asked 😅). From the world, which doesn’t clap for mothers who simply stay.
I thought someone else needed to see me before I could see myself.
But one day, I realized: Maybe the validation I crave isn’t missing. Maybe I’ve just been outsourcing my worth.
Now, I say it to myself, Not in arrogance. But in love.
Because if I don’t remind myself I matter, I’ll keep living like I don’t.
I no longer wait for others to validate my worth. I no longer chase old dreams just to feel worthy again.
I’ve created something sacred here: A home that feels safe. Children who feel seen. A self that’s still growing.
Yes, the outside world moved without me. But the world I built inside these four walls? That world is strong. Steady. Real.
And I’m still here. Becoming.
A few truths that stayed with me:
Your self-doubt didn’t start with you. It was modeled, taught, or reinforced. You can choose not to pass it down.
Motherhood doesn’t erase your identity. It expands it. But only if you let yourself grow too.
Restoring your self-trust is the greatest gift you can give your children. Because they’re watching. They don’t need a perfect mom — they need a present one, who loves herself enough to keep trying.
A Reminder for Moms Like Me
If you ever feel left out of the world, like it’s moving on without you
Look around.
You’re not behind. You’re just building something different.
Quieter. Softer. Deeper.
It’s not on LinkedIn.
And that choice? It counts. For something. For everything. 🤍
Repeat After Me:
I am not just a mom.
I am not falling behind.
I am allowed to grow in silence.
I am still becoming.
One Last Quote to Keep in Your Pocket:
"Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will." — Suzy Kassem
Doubt will always try to follow you.
But it doesn’t have to drive.
You can hear the voice and still choose to act.
Still choose to speak.
Still choose to show up.
It’s not about never doubting yourself again.
It’s about knowing what to do when you do.
And when in doubt, return to this:
Your worth isn’t up for debate.
It’s rooted, unshakable, and real.
Even when you forget it.
Even when you feel messy.
Even when no one else sees.
With Love,
Mona — Gentle Strong Mom
Today Prompt:
What’s one way you’ve doubted yourself lately and what would change if you trusted yourself instead?
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⚠️ This post is designed for ADHD readers (or any mom who gets easily overstimulated).
So you can actually finish it and maybe come back when your brain needs a softer space again.