I landed the best-paying client I’d ever had, and within two weeks, I’d destroyed the relationship.
Not consciously. Not deliberately. But I missed deadlines. I stopped communicating. I did sloppy work that wasn’t up to my usual standards. I created problems where none existed.
And when they inevitably let me go, I felt this strange mixture of devastation and relief. Devastation because I’d needed that income. Relief because things could go back to “normal”—back to struggling, back to just getting by, back to the familiar territory of not quite making it.
This wasn’t the first time. I’d done this before. Every time I started making good money, every time I got close to actually getting ahead financially, something would happen. I’d make a mistake. I’d create drama. I’d sabotage the opportunity somehow.
And then I’d be right back where I started. Struggling. Stressed. Barely making ends meet. Right where I apparently felt most comfortable.
I thought I was just unlucky. That I had bad timing. That opportunities never worked out for me. I blamed external circumstances, other people, bad luck.
But eventually I had to face the uncomfortable truth: I was the common denominator. I was the one sabotaging my own success. Not because I was trying to fail, but because some part of me was terrified of succeeding.
Self-sabotage around money isn’t about being lazy or self-destructive. It’s your subconscious protecting you from something that feels dangerous—even when that “something” is actually what you want.
And until I understood what I was afraid of, until I addressed the beliefs that made success feel like a threat, I was going to keep repeating this pattern no matter how many opportunities came my way.
The Pattern I Couldn’t Break
Let me tell you how the cycle would go.
Something good would happen financially. I’d get a new client, a raise, a big project. I’d feel excited. Hopeful. Like maybe this was the turning point. Maybe this time I’d actually get ahead.
I’d do well at first. I’d work hard. I’d deliver good results. I’d start to feel proud of myself.
And then, right when things were going well, right when I was on the verge of real success, something would shift.
I’d start procrastinating. I’d miss meetings or show up unprepared. I’d make careless mistakes that weren’t like me. I’d stop responding to emails promptly. I’d become unreliable in ways I’d never been before.
Or I’d create unnecessary conflict. I’d get defensive over minor feedback. I’d interpret normal business interactions as personal attacks. I’d burn bridges with people who were actually trying to help me.
Or I’d just… disappear. Stop showing up. Stop trying. Convince myself the opportunity wasn’t worth it anyway. Find reasons why this client or job or project was actually terrible and I was better off without it.
And inevitably, I’d lose the opportunity. Through my own behavior. Through my own choices. Through my own self-sabotage.
Afterwards, I’d feel terrible. I’d beat myself up. “Why did I do that? Why do I always ruin good things? What’s wrong with me?”
But underneath the self-criticism, there’d be that strange sense of relief. Like I’d narrowly escaped something dangerous. Like I was safe again, back in familiar territory.
And the cycle would repeat. Another opportunity would come. I’d get excited. I’d do well at first. And then I’d sabotage it again.
For years, I thought this was just who I was. Someone who couldn’t handle success. Someone fundamentally incapable of getting ahead. Someone who was meant to always struggle.
But that wasn’t true. I wasn’t incapable of success. I was afraid of it. And my subconscious was doing everything in its power to protect me from that fear.
What I Was Actually Afraid Of
It took me a long time to understand what scared me about making good money and being successful. On the surface, I wanted it desperately. So why would I be afraid of it?
But when I started digging deeper—when I started paying attention to what came up when I thought about actually succeeding financially—I found a whole web of fears I hadn’t consciously acknowledged.
Fear of visibility: When you’re struggling financially, you can fly under the radar. Nobody pays much attention to you. But when you start succeeding, people notice. People watch. People have opinions about you and what you’re doing.
For someone like me who’d learned to stay small and invisible growing up, that attention felt threatening. Success meant being seen. Being seen meant being vulnerable to judgment, criticism, rejection.
So my subconscious would sabotage success to keep me invisible. To keep me safe in obscurity.
Fear of expectations: When you’re barely getting by, nobody expects much from you. But when you start succeeding, expectations rise. People expect you to keep succeeding. To maintain that level. To keep performing.
That pressure felt crushing. What if I couldn’t maintain it? What if I succeeded once but couldn’t do it again? What if everyone’s expectations became so heavy I’d collapse under the weight of them?
Better to sabotage early, my subconscious decided, than to fail publicly under the weight of expectations later.
Fear of outgrowing my identity: I’d been “the struggling one” for so long. The person who worked hard but never quite made it. The one who always had financial stress. The one who needed help.
That identity was familiar. Comfortable in a weird way. It’s who I knew how to be.
Success threatened that identity. If I made good money, if I got ahead financially, who would I be? How would I relate to my family and friends? Would I still belong?
My subconscious sabotaged success to protect my identity, even though that identity was painful. Because painful and familiar felt safer than unfamiliar and uncertain.
Fear of responsibility: With more money comes more responsibility. More taxes. More decisions. More pressure to manage things correctly. More ways to mess it up.
When you’re broke, financial decisions are simple—you do what you have to do to survive. But when you start making real money, suddenly there are choices. Investments. Savings strategies. Retirement planning.
All of that felt overwhelming. So my subconscious kept me in survival mode where decisions were simpler, even if life was harder.
Fear of proving my unworthiness: This was the deepest fear. The one underneath all the others.
Part of me believed that if I actually succeeded financially and was still unhappy—if I still felt anxious, still felt like something was missing, still felt fundamentally unsatisfied with life—then that would prove the problem wasn’t circumstances. The problem was me.
As long as I was struggling financially, I could tell myself, “Of course I’m unhappy. Of course life is hard. Anyone would be unhappy in my situation.”
But if I succeeded and was still unhappy? That would mean I was fundamentally broken. That nothing could fix what was wrong with me.
So my subconscious sabotaged success to avoid having to face that possibility. Better to keep struggling and have an excuse than to succeed and discover the problem went deeper than money.
How Self-Sabotage Actually Works
Self-sabotage isn’t a conscious choice. You don’t wake up and think, “Today I’m going to ruin this opportunity.”
It happens automatically, beneath conscious awareness. Your subconscious detects a threat (success, in this case) and activates protective mechanisms without your conscious mind even realizing it.
For me, the self-sabotage showed up in ways that seemed completely unrelated to fear at the time.
Procrastination: I’d tell myself I was just tired, just needed a break, just didn’t feel like working right now. But the procrastination always happened when things were going well. When the stakes were highest. When success was closest.
Looking back, I can see it clearly: I was procrastinating to create distance from success. To ensure I didn’t get too close to actually achieving what I said I wanted.
Creating unnecessary drama: I’d pick fights with clients over minor issues. I’d interpret feedback as criticism. I’d get offended over things that weren’t actually offensive.
At the time, I thought I was just standing up for myself. But really, I was creating conflict to justify leaving or getting fired. I was burning bridges so I wouldn’t have to cross them.
Physical symptoms: I’d get sick right before important meetings. Headaches. Stomach issues. Exhaustion so profound I couldn’t function.
My body was participating in the sabotage. Creating legitimate reasons why I couldn’t follow through. Protecting me from success in ways my conscious mind couldn’t argue with.
Perfectionism and analysis paralysis: I’d overthink everything. Revise work endlessly. Convince myself nothing was good enough to submit. Get so caught up in making things perfect that I’d miss deadlines.
The perfectionism wasn’t about excellence. It was about avoidance. About never actually finishing and submitting work, because finished work could be judged. Finished work could lead to success. And success felt dangerous.
Imposter syndrome: I’d convince myself I wasn’t qualified, wasn’t good enough, didn’t deserve the opportunity. That someone was going to figure out I was a fraud.
The imposter syndrome would get so loud that it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’d start acting like an imposter—doing subpar work, not showing up fully—until eventually I’d prove right the fear that I didn’t belong.
All of these behaviors served the same purpose: keep me away from success. Protect me from the dangers my subconscious associated with making good money and getting ahead.
The Upper Limit Problem
There’s a concept called the “upper limit problem” that perfectly describes what I was experiencing.
Basically, we all have an internal thermostat for how much success, happiness, and financial security we believe we can handle. When we exceed that internal set point, when we push beyond what our subconscious believes we deserve or can manage, we unconsciously pull ourselves back down to our “normal” level.
It’s like a thermostat in a house. If it’s set to 68 degrees and the temperature rises to 72, the air conditioning kicks on to bring it back down. Your subconscious does the same thing with success.
For me, my upper limit for income was set somewhere around “just barely getting by.” That was my normal. My comfortable—even though it wasn’t actually comfortable.
Every time I started making more money, every time I exceeded that internal set point, my subconscious would activate the sabotage mechanisms to bring me back down to familiar territory.
I didn’t consciously want to struggle. But struggle was my baseline. My default. What I knew how to handle.
Success felt foreign. Unfamiliar. Potentially dangerous. So my subconscious kept pulling me back to struggle because struggle felt safe.
The only way to change this pattern was to change my internal thermostat. To expand my upper limit. To teach my subconscious that success was safe, that I deserved to maintain it, that I could handle being financially stable.
And that required more than just positive thinking or motivation. It required actually working through the fears and beliefs that had set my upper limit so low in the first place.
The Moment I Caught Myself in the Act
The shift began when I finally caught myself sabotaging in real time.
I’d landed another good client. Things were going well. I was making good money. And then I noticed the familiar pattern starting: the procrastination, the anxiety, the urge to create distance.
But this time, instead of just acting on those urges automatically, I paused. I sat with the uncomfortable feeling and asked myself: “What am I afraid of right now?”
And the answer came immediately: “I’m afraid I won’t be able to maintain this. I’m afraid I’ll get comfortable and then it’ll all fall apart and I’ll be devastated. It feels safer to sabotage it now before I get too attached.”
That realization was stunning. Because for the first time, I could see the sabotage for what it was: protection. My subconscious trying to protect me from potential pain by ensuring I never got close enough to success to be hurt by losing it.
The logic was absurd, of course. Sabotaging guaranteed I’d lose the opportunity. But my subconscious wasn’t operating on logic. It was operating on fear and survival instinct.
Seeing the pattern clearly—understanding what I was really doing and why—gave me the power to choose differently.
I didn’t suddenly stop feeling the fear. But I could recognize it for what it was. And I could choose to move forward despite it instead of letting it control my behavior automatically.
How Tapping Helped Me Stop Sabotaging
Once I understood what was happening, I started using FasterEFT tapping to work through the fears driving my self-sabotage.
I’d tap on the specific fears: “I’m afraid of being visible. I’m afraid of expectations. I’m afraid I’ll succeed and still be unhappy and that will prove I’m fundamentally broken.”
Just acknowledging these fears while tapping started to take away their power. They became thoughts I could examine instead of truths I had to protect myself from.
I worked on expanding my upper limit. I’d tap on statements like: “I can only handle making X amount of money. Anything more than that is dangerous. I don’t deserve sustained financial success.”
As I tapped on these beliefs, I could feel them softening. The internal thermostat starting to adjust. The narrow bandwidth of what I believed I could handle starting to expand.
I also tapped on past incidents of self-sabotage. Times when I’d destroyed opportunities. Times when I’d gotten close to success and pulled back. Times when I’d proven my fear right by creating the failure I was trying to avoid.
Working through these memories helped me release the pattern. Each incident had reinforced the belief that I couldn’t handle success. By processing them with tapping, I could see them differently—not as proof that I was incapable, but as evidence that I’d been operating from fear.
I tapped preventatively too. When I noticed the familiar feelings coming up—the urge to procrastinate, the temptation to create conflict, the physical symptoms trying to keep me from showing up—I’d stop and tap before acting on those urges.
“I’m feeling the sabotage pattern starting. Part of me wants to pull back. Part of me is afraid of succeeding. But I can handle this. I’m safe even if I succeed.”
Over time, the pattern started to break. The sabotage urges still came up sometimes, but they were weaker. More manageable. Something I could work through instead of something that controlled me.
What Changed When I Stopped Sabotaging Myself
The changes were profound.
I completed projects without imploding halfway through. I maintained client relationships without creating unnecessary drama. I delivered good work consistently instead of oscillating between excellence and self-destruction.
My income stabilized. Then it grew. And it stayed grown instead of spiking and crashing the way it always had before.
I built savings that I didn’t sabotage and spend. I made financial progress that I didn’t immediately undo.
Most importantly, I started to feel like I could trust myself. That I wasn’t my own worst enemy. That I could hold success instead of destroying it the moment I achieved it.
The relief was enormous. Because living in constant self-sabotage is exhausting. You’re fighting yourself at every turn. You can’t relax into success because you’re waiting for yourself to ruin it.
When that pattern finally broke, I could actually enjoy my successes. I could feel proud of my accomplishments without waiting for the other shoe to drop. I could build something sustainable instead of just surviving crisis to crisis.
I’m not going to lie and say I never struggle with self-sabotage anymore. The urge still comes up sometimes, especially when I’m pushing into new territory or exceeding my old upper limits in significant ways.
But now I can recognize it. I can tap through it. I can choose differently.
And that’s changed everything.
The Training That Taught Me This
I learned how to work with self-sabotage patterns through Robert Gene Smith’s Mind Over Money training.
One of the most valuable parts of the program is the section on self-sabotage—why it happens, how to recognize it, and how to use FasterEFT to interrupt the pattern before it destroys your opportunities.
Robert explains the psychology behind self-sabotage in a way that finally made sense to me. He helped me understand that sabotaging wasn’t proof I was broken—it was proof I was afraid. And fear could be worked with.
The training includes:
- How to identify your specific self-sabotage patterns
- The hidden fears driving the sabotage
- Protocols for working through those fears with tapping
- How to expand your upper limit for success
- How to interrupt sabotage in real time before it destroys opportunities
If you sabotage yourself when things start going well—if you have a pattern of destroying opportunities right when you’re on the verge of success—I highly recommend checking out Mind Over Money [AFFILIATE LINK].
They also offer a free 5-day introduction to FasterEFT [AFFILIATE LINK] if you want to start with the basics and see if tapping can help you break your self-sabotage patterns.
You’re Not Broken (You’re Protecting Yourself)
If you sabotage yourself around money, please hear this: you’re not broken. You’re not lazy or self-destructive or incapable of success.
You’re afraid. And your subconscious is trying to protect you from what it perceives as danger, even though that “danger” is actually what you want.
The sabotage isn’t happening because something is wrong with you. It’s happening because at some point, your subconscious learned that success is threatening. Maybe you saw someone struggle under the weight of success. Maybe success meant leaving your family or community behind. Maybe you absorbed the message that you don’t deserve good things.
Whatever the reason, your subconscious is just doing its job: keeping you safe. The problem is, it’s keeping you safe from the wrong thing.
You can change this. You can identify the fears driving the sabotage. You can work through them with tools like tapping. You can expand your upper limit and teach your subconscious that success is safe.
You can stop being your own worst enemy. You can start trusting yourself to hold success instead of destroying it.
It takes work. It takes awareness. It takes addressing the fears instead of just trying to override them with willpower.
But it’s possible. I did it. And if I can—someone who sabotaged every good opportunity for years, who was convinced I was just fundamentally incapable of success—then you can too.
You deserve to succeed. You deserve to stop fighting yourself. You deserve to actually enjoy the good things you work so hard to achieve.
And you can. Starting now.
This post is part of my series on healing your relationship with money. For the complete story, start here: [Money Mindset Blocks: How I Finally Broke Free from Financial Stress and the Belief That I Always Have to Struggle].
If checking your bank account triggers intense anxiety, read this: [Money Anxiety: Why Checking Your Bank Account Makes You Want to Throw Up].
If you grew up with financial scarcity, read this: [Growing Up Poor: How Childhood Financial Trauma Affects Your Adult Money Story].
Medical & Professional Disclaimer: I am not a medical doctor, licensed therapist, counselor, or qualified financial professional. The content and information provided throughout this website and within this article are intended strictly for educational and informational purposes only. This material should not under any circumstances be interpreted or utilized as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, treatment, mental health counseling, or professional financial planning and legal counsel. Always consult with a certified healthcare provider or qualified professional regarding any specific physical, mental, or financial concerns you may have.
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