How Do I Trust Myself?

How do I trust myself when the next step isn’t obvious?

If you are a high-achieving Latina, Afro-Latina, or Black woman, you’ve probably been praised for having it “together” for most of your life. Good grades. Strong work ethic. Reliability. Leadership.

​So when you reach a moment where the next step isn’t clear, it can feel unsettling—almost like you’ve done something wrong.

Let me say this gently and clearly:
Uncertainty is not a failure.
Very often, it’s just part of the research process of life.

Here’s how I’ve learned to trust myself when the path ahead wasn’t obvious—drawing from my own journey and the lessons we explore through Black-Liberation.Tech.


1. Trust the Work Your Hands Have Already Done
When the road ahead feels foggy, I remind myself of this truth:
Your hands remember what your mind forgets.

In biology, you don’t just read about cells—you draw them. Over and over. You label, sketch, revise. And when test day comes, your brain remembers what your hand has practiced.

Life works the same way.

You’ve been studying. Leading. Building. Solving problems. Creating. Showing up. Even if you can’t immediately see how it all connects, your body and mind have been developing muscle memory for success.

When the next step isn’t obvious, trust that the work you’ve already done is stored inside you—ready to activate when you need it.


2. Treat Your Journey Like Research—It’s a Process
I often tell my nieces that research is like doing my hair.

​You don’t start at the roots.
You start at the ends.

You work through the tangles slowly, section by section, until eventually you can move from root to tip without breaking anything along the way.

Your life and career are no different.

You don’t need to see the entire picture to move forward. You just need to work through the next tangle with care. Whether you’re planning a career move, writing a dissertation, or rethinking your direction, you’re engaging in a process—gathering data, testing ideas, revising hypotheses.

Be patient with yourself while you comb through the details. Clarity often comes during the process, not before it.


3. Embrace Flexibility: Life Is a Jam Session
Sometimes the next step isn’t obvious because you’re holding tightly to a script that no longer fits.

During my dissertation, I had to cut thirty pages of work I loved. Pages I’d poured myself into. Pages that felt right—until I realized they weren't my next move.

That experience taught me something important:
Life isn’t a recital. It’s a jam session.

Flexibility doesn’t mean you’re lost. It means you’re listening.

Improvisation is not the opposite of discipline—it’s a different expression of it. As Aesop reminds us, slow and steady wins the race. Sometimes steadiness looks like adapting the rhythm instead of forcing the melody.


4. If There’s No Homework, Do It Yourself (DIY)
Some seasons of life come with no syllabus.

No checklist.
No instructions.
No clearly defined “next assignment.”

In school, I learned that when a class had no homework, it didn’t mean there was nothing to do. It meant I had to design the learning.

Life works the same way.

If the next step isn’t obvious because no one is handing you directions, that’s not a dead end—it’s an invitation. Create your own study guide. Follow your curiosity. Decide what you want to learn next and start mapping it out.

You don’t need permission to design your own curriculum.


5. Lean on Your Community (Ubuntu)
Trusting yourself doesn’t mean doing everything alone.
I live by the philosophy of Ubuntu: I am because we are.

When I was stuck—really stuck—I didn’t sit in silence trying to power through. I called someone. I talked it out. I let another mind help me see what I couldn’t see yet.

Your community is part of your intuition.

A mother.
A mentor.
A sister-friend.
A peer who understands your world.

When you lean on your village, you’re not doubting yourself—you’re expanding your perspective.


6. Remember: Progress Isn’t Always Linear
One of the most freeing realizations I had during my doctorate was this:
I was making progress every which way but back.

Sometimes progress looks like a lateral move.
Sometimes it looks like a pause.
Sometimes it looks like tending to your mental health or getting your physical space back in order.

Not every step moves you forward in a straight line—but as long as you’re not moving backward, you are still moving.

I changed my mind more than once on my journey—from medicine to education to instructional technology. Each time, I learned something that made the next decision stronger.

​And here’s the part I want you to hold onto:
Whatever choice you make next, you have the power to make it a good one.


A Gentle Reminder
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are not failing.

You are researching.
You are learning.
You are becoming.

Trust the work your hands have already done.
Trust your curiosity.
Trust your community.

And when the next step isn’t obvious, trust that you are still capable of figuring it out--one honest step at a time.

You’ve done harder things than this.
And you didn’t do them alone.