In last week’s blog, I discussed Self-Trust through the lens of expressing your needs, Not just presenting your problems. You can read the full article here: Building Self Trust

I promised this week, I would discuss the kink of focusing on your problems and how it serves you.

A "kink" can refer to:

An unusual or quirky habit, behavior, or twist in someone’s personality or pattern — especially one that may be unhelpful, irrational, or counterproductive.

So, "the kink of doing something not good for us," could mean:

a compulsive tendency (e.g., procrastination despite knowing better),
a psychological snag (e.g., always sabotaging relationships),
or a mental twist (e.g., finding comfort in chaos or guilt).

Here is an example from my life to illustrate.

Recently I came home from a long trip, was under slept and wanted to get to bed early. My new roommates were playing music. It was fascinating and illuminating to be an observer of the stories in my mind. Worry came up about not being able to get enough sleep if the music kept me up.

I noticed the part of me that wanted to go into victim mode, with thoughts of, “I will be exhausted tomorrow.” and “I’m not going to be able to function well.”, “This isn’t fair.”, “What if I’m cranky.”. I was not living from those thoughts but I was noticing them.

What I also noticed was, none of that was happening in the moment. In fact the music was enjoyable and I was still getting ready for bed so not even in it yet. I was aware that “if” the music was still playing after I crawled into bed and “if” it was keeping me awake then I could vulnerably and nicely go ask my roommates if they would mind turning the music down so I could get some sleep.

Once I did crawl into bed, even though I did not want to hear the music, I noticed a previous version of me would have been actively listening. Actually reaching out with my auditory senses to try and hear it.

Why would I do that you might ask? Well the reason would have been so that then I could feel righteously angry, so I would have impetus to be upset and go to their room to let them know whether directly or passive aggressively, how they had wronged me with their music.

However in this case, I realized that was not needed because again, I could trust myself to speak calmly and openly to them. In the end what actually happened was I never heard the music as I went to bed, I did not try to listen for it and I fell asleep very quickly. But wow, the machinations our brains can go through.

These mental or emotional "kinks"—those ingrained habits of focusing on problems rather than solutions—often come from places in us that are trying to protect or prepare us. They aren't just random bad habits. They serve a function, even if it’s outdated or counterproductive now.

For instance, the kink of catastrophizing (“I won’t be able to function tomorrow,” “This isn’t fair”) may have once helped us anticipate danger or chaos, especially if we grew up in environments where we needed to scan for threats.

Similarly, the part of us that actively listens for a disturbance we don’t want—like the music in my story—might be trying to gather evidence that we are justified in feeling hurt, burdened, or mistreated. That righteousness can offer a strange kind of comfort. It lets us feel powerful in our suffering, like we have a right to lash out, withdraw, or demand change without being vulnerable.

These patterns often emerge when we don’t feel like we have safe, empowered access to direct communication or boundary-setting. If I don’t trust that I can calmly ask for what I need—or be heard if I do—I might lean instead on a dramatic internal narrative that justifies my reaction. It’s not helpful, but it feels safer than potential rejection, conflict, or being misunderstood.

But here's the shift: when we begin to trust ourselves to respond, not react—to speak up clearly, to wait and see rather than preemptively spin worst-case scenarios—we can unwind these kinks. We don’t need to reach for suffering as a justification. And in fact we don't need to suffer. Instead, we can just name what’s real and ask for what we need.

So how do we begin to avoid these kinks? Use witness perspective to observe your thoughts.

Catch the kink in real time. Like I did in my story—pause and notice when you're leaning toward the story of the problem, rather than what's actually happening.
Question the story. Ask yourself: “Is this happening now, or am I projecting based on past patterns?”
Validate the need underneath. What is this kink trying to protect? Often it’s trying to help you feel safe, seen, or in control.
Choose a new action. Rather than spiral, practice trusting yourself to take clear, simple steps—like asking someone to turn the music down, or letting yourself sleep without monitoring the potential threat.

By becoming aware of these kinks without shaming them, and meeting them with curiosity and self-trust, we start untangling them. Not with force, but with compassion. That’s how real, sustainable change begins—through practice, presence, and the willingness to live from a new story.

I'd love to hear from you. What’s one mental kink you tend to fall into when you’re feeling stressed or unseen? This week, try noticing it without judgment—and ask yourself what it’s trying to protect. You might be surprised by what shifts.

And if you're ready to stop defaulting to old stories and start building a relationship of real self-trust, I’d love to help. Reach out and let’s have a conversation about what that could look like.

The next episode of my podcast comes out this week on Thursday. I have a special guest so you won't want to miss it.