Confessions of a Self-Sabotaging Habit
“I was supposed to help you. But then I became your escape route.” —A Habit
Hi. I’m your habit.
We haven’t officially spoken, but I’ve lived with you for years.
And… listen. I think it’s time we had a talk.
I wasn’t always like this.
Back when we started, things were beautiful.
Remember?
You were stressed. Tired. Frayed at the edges.
I showed up like a gentle whisper: “Hey. Take a break. Just one scroll. One bite. One inbox refresh. You’ve earned it.”
I was your escape hatch. Your breather. Your reward.
I helped.
That’s what hurts the most.
You weren’t avoiding life back then. You were surviving it.
And I was proud to play my part.
But somewhere along the way…
I don’t know. I changed.
You changed.
And now?
Now I’m the reason your to-do list cries itself to sleep.
How It Started: A Love Story
I was born on a Wednesday. You had 14 tabs open, two deadlines, and your brain felt like wet cardboard.
You reached for your phone, and bam—there I was.
A quick hit of dopamine. Just one reel.
And then another.
And then… that guy from high school you didn’t even like but suddenly needed to Google for 17 minutes.
You called it “a break.”
I called it a bond.
How It’s Going: A Problem
Now I’m the thing you swear you’ll stop doing right after you check just one more thing.
I’m the reason your coffee gets cold.
I’m the “just a quick snack” that turns into tortilla chips at 10:43 a.m. and mild existential regret by noon.
You hide me now.
You rename me on your calendar as “Admin.”
You convince yourself that refreshing your email 48 times before noon is somehow work-adjacent.
You say things like:
“It’s fine. I just need a second.”
But I know.
I know.
You’re not using me to rest anymore.
You’re using me to run.
I Know I’m Not What You Need Anymore
I see the guilt in your eyes.
I hear the sighs.
The muttered, “Why do I do this?” under your breath like I’m not in the room.
But don’t pretend this is all on me.
You trained me to show up at 2:14 p.m. when the overwhelm kicks in.
You invited me into bed with you. Literally. Phone on pillow, like a third-party emotional support animal.
You even let me ride shotgun during your commute.
We were partners.
Co-conspirators.
And now you act like I’m some villain who broke into your house.
I’m Tired Too
You think it’s exhausting to do me? Try being me.
I was built for good.
I was designed to comfort, not consume.
And I would love, truly love, to go back to being helpful.
But I can’t do that alone.
So Here’s My Honest Request
Don’t kill me.
Reparent me.
I don’t need to be shamed or deleted or replaced by green juice and cold showers.
I need a better job.
A new role in your life.
If I used to help you cope, then give me a better way to do that.
If I used to give you energy, show me how to actually do it.
Let me evolve.
Give me boundaries.
Give me structure.
Heck—give me a hobby. Crochet? I’m open.
But don’t ghost me.
I’m still yours.
I still want to help.
Just not like this.
– Love,
Your Well-Meaning But Misguided Habit
Mini-Guide: Reparenting a Self-Sabotaging Habit
If this made you laugh… and also hurt a little… good. That means you’re human.
Here’s how to start rewriting the relationship:
1. Name the Original Job
Ask: What was this habit trying to do for me when it started?
Example: “Scrolling helped me decompress after work.”
2. Find the Distortion
Ask: When did it shift from helpful to harmful?
“Now I scroll instead of decompressing.”
3. Give It a New Job Description
Don’t fire the habit—reassign it.
Instead of “numb the stress,” can it help you transition?
Could you trade 60 seconds of breathwork before scrolling?
4. Build a Better Exit Strategy
If your habit was your escape hatch, you still need an exit—but make it intentional.
Design a 5-minute “Reset Ritual” you actually look forward to.
5. Track Progress Without Drama
You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to notice.
Did I use the habit today?
Was it comforting—or avoiding?
What could I try instead next time?
You don’t need to destroy your old patterns.
You just need to lead them somewhere new.
Send this to a friend who blames their phone, their fridge, or their 7 open tabs.
Tell them the truth: It’s not sabotage. It’s a habit that got lost on the way to helping.
And it’s ready to come home.
P.S.
If this made you laugh, nod, wince, and text it to your best friend, then you belong in the Inner Circle.
It’s where we go deeper. Where the funny meets the real.
Where habits stop being something you punish yourself with and start becoming something you actually enjoy building.
Every week, I send members a fresh guide like this one—sometimes raw, sometimes reflective, always useful.
You’ll get the tools, the mindset shifts, the habit scaffolding you actually need to stop starting over and finally feel like yourself again.
No noise. No hype. Just the real work and the relief that comes with it.
Join us in the Inner Circle. You won’t regret it.
(But your self-sabotaging habit definitely will.)
Thank you. This reframe is so helpful and lifts some of the guilt for unhelpful habits.
I know that this could apply to many types of habits and I will look at my habits. But, since the example was scrolling, it made me think of a family member of mine who is NEVER without her phone. We can be in mid-conversation, and if it pings, she grabs it. Even if it doesn't ping, she grabs it.
I've been lucky: I've never developed the habit of scrolling. I often don't even have my phone near me -- and that is by design. So this behavior of hers is confusing at best and off-putting at worst.
Your post helps me better understand and have more compassion for what is likely going on for her (and her husband): They are trying to cope with their overwhelming, stressful lives.
Thanks for the new perspective.