For a long time, I thought insecurity was just part of who I was. Not something to question or challenge, but something to work around. It influenced the clothes I wore, the rooms I walked into, the opportunities I talked myself out of, and the version of myself I allowed other people to see.
Some of that came from life long before I had the words for it, and some of it arrived later, after the changes that came from brain surgery and a stroke. A permanent visible difference has ways of redrawing how you think the world sees you, even when no one says a word. Suddenly mirrors feel louder and rooms feel smaller. The hardest part is that hiding behind insecurities often feels sensible, protective even, and as though you're perhaps being realistic and responsible.
But over time, I've realised that insecurity isn’t the truth. It isn't something we should let dictate our decisions or limit our potential. Instead, it's a voice that grows louder the more attention you give it and more convincing the longer you listen. And even though some days are easier than others, with practice and a decision to show up anyway, we can quieten those voices.
If you’re struggling with self‑doubt, body image, or confidence after illness or life‑changing experiences, you’re not broken. You’re human.
Here are a few things that have helped me learn how to overcome insecurities and stop letting them run my life.
1. Stop talking to your insecurities
I used to spend so much time arguing with my insecure thoughts, explaining myself to them, justifying my choices, and mentally replaying conversations as if I could somehow prove them wrong. After surgery, I did this even more, analysing how I looked, how I sounded, how I walked into a room, and whether people noticed the things I noticed.
All it ever did was give those thoughts more space to grow. Now, when one shows up, I try to notice it for what it is and carry on with my day, reminding myself that not every thought deserves my focus, my explanation, or my emotional energy. Learning to deal with insecurities often starts with refusing to give them constant attention.
2. Don’t let insecurities make your decisions
Insecurities are very good at disguising themselves as common sense. They sound practical and responsible, telling you to be careful, to wait a little longer, or to avoid embarrassment and unwanted attention. It was very easy in the early days of facial paralysis to convince myself that staying quiet or staying home was just being sensible, but that was simply fear leading the way.
When I feel stuck, I try to ask myself whether I would make the same choice if fear wasn’t involved at all. The answer is usually uncomfortable, but honest, and it reminds me that a life shaped by self‑doubt will always end up smaller than the one I actually want.
3. Don’t let insecurity be the reason you say no
For years, I thought I was turning things down because I was busy or tired, or because recovery had drained my energy more than people could see, and sometimes that was true. But often, underneath that, was the real reason of not feeling ready to be looked at, or explained, or noticed.
I didn’t feel confident enough or comfortable enough, and the problem with waiting for confidence is that it rarely arrives before action. More often, it grows after you’ve already done the thing you were scared of.
4. Remember that your thoughts matter more than your flaws
I spent a long time believing that the most noticeable thing about me was what had changed: my paralysed face, the scars, the parts of my body that didn’t work the way they used to. But the way you speak to yourself shapes how you experience your entire life, and you don’t build confidence by criticising yourself into submission.
You build it slowly by choosing gentler and more honest thoughts, even when they feel unfamiliar or undeserved at first. This is one of the most overlooked parts of building confidence and self‑esteem.
5. Question what society taught you to hide
Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that we should stay out of sight until we’re more presentable, more put together, more impressive, or more acceptable. After illness, that belief can tighten its grip even more, whispering that you should wait until you look healthier, stronger, or more like your old self.
So we postpone our lives, waiting to become a better version of ourselves before we participate fully, but life doesn’t pause while you try to fix yourself, and it doesn’t require perfection as an entry requirement.
6. Choose memories over appearance
When you look back on your life, you won’t remember how you looked in every room or how closely you matched whatever standard you were chasing at the time. You’ll remember how you felt, who you were with, the conversations that stayed with you, and the days you almost cancelled but didn’t.
Life isn’t about being visually flawless, but about collecting moments that mean something to you, even if you didn’t feel your best while they were happening.
7. Anchor your self‑worth to what can’t be taken away
Your appearance will change, your health might change, and your circumstances will shift in ways you can’t control, but your personality, your values, your humour, and the way you see the world belong to you.
No one can take those things away from you, not illness, not time, and not other people’s opinions, and that’s where your real power is, even on the days you forget it.
8. Let action come before confidence
I used to assume that confident people felt ready before they did brave things, but most of the time they don’t. Some of the hardest things I’ve done since surgery were simple on the surface, like walking into a room, meeting new people, or letting myself be seen without explaining first.
My heart raced, my hands shook, and I went anyway, and confidence only arrived afterwards, once I realised I had survived it. This is often how real confidence is built.
9. Make your life bigger than your insecurities
When your world becomes very small, insecurities naturally take centre stage, because they have more room to echo, more time to replay, and more power to convince you that they’re important. Recovery can shrink your world without you even noticing, and so can self‑protection.
But when your life is filled with people, purpose, curiosity, and connection, those same insecurities start to fade into the background. They don’t disappear entirely, but they become quieter and easier to ignore.
10. Choose yourself, repeatedly
This isn’t something you fix once and never think about again, but something you practise, often imperfectly. Some days you’ll feel strong and capable, and other days your body will feel heavy, your reflection will feel unfamiliar, and your confidence will disappear without warning.
Both are normal, and what matters is that you keep choosing yourself anyway, even when it’s uncomfortable and even when it would be easier to hide.
Final thoughts on overcoming insecurities
You don’t need to become someone else to deserve a full life, and you don’t need to wait until your body feels familiar again or your confidence feels steady. You don’t need to earn the right to take up space.
Your life is already happening, in all its mess and uncertainty, and you deserve to be in it exactly as you are.
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