Confirmation Bias

We all want to believe we’re right. That the thoughts we have are the truth. That what we fear is valid. That what we suspect about others is accurate. And so, often without realizing it, we go looking for proof. Not for the truth—but for what we already believe.

That’s confirmation bias.

And it can quietly wreck everything from our relationships to our self-worth.


What Are You Trying to Prove?

Here’s the thing about the human brain: it’s not always looking for truth. It’s looking for evidence that confirms what it already believes.

If your brain believes you’re not good enough, it will dismiss compliments and zero in on criticism.

If your brain thinks no one can be trusted, it will interpret a delayed text or a short tone as betrayal.

If you believe someone doesn’t like you, you’ll search their face and their actions for the tiniest piece of proof—and you’ll find it, even if it isn’t real.

We all do it. It’s human.

But when we act on that bias instead of reality, we reinforce the story we already believe—and miss the opportunity for connection, growth, and healing.


When I Believed the Worst

For a long time, I believed I was unworthy. That no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. That I would always be the one left behind.

So I looked for proof.

I clung to any sign of rejection. I dismissed care or kindness because I assumed it wouldn’t last. I assumed I was being judged, even when no one was paying attention to me.

I thought I was being self-aware. I thought I was protecting myself.

But what I was really doing was building a case against myself, collecting data that wasn’t even true. And every time I gave weight to a moment of perceived rejection, I was closing a door. I was missing a chance to see that maybe the story I was telling myself wasn’t the whole truth.

And if it wasn’t the truth? Maybe I wasn’t broken after all.


How to Break the Bias

Awareness is everything.

Next time you find yourself thinking, “See? I knew it,” pause.

Ask yourself:

What am I trying to prove right now? And is this actually true—or just familiar?

Confirmation bias feels like safety. It feels like control. But really, it’s just an old loop. One you can break.

Try asking someone you trust for a reality check. Or write down your belief and then list the evidence for and against it.

Better yet, ask yourself: Would I talk to someone I love the way I’m talking to myself right now?


SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • What beliefs do I keep trying to prove?
  • Where did those beliefs come from?
  • How is confirmation bias limiting my relationships?
  • Do I trust my thoughts more than I trust what’s real?
  • What would it feel like to look for evidence of the opposite being true?

S – L – A – Y

S: Spot the belief that keeps repeating.
L: Listen for the moment you start searching for proof.
A: Ask yourself what else could be true.
Y: Yield to possibility. It’s where healing begins.


Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s a belief you’ve spent a long time trying to prove—and what happened when you questioned it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in a loop of self-doubt, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

The Stories From Our Past

Before I began my recovery journey, I lived by stories that weren’t mine. I believed I was different. Less-than. Unworthy of good things. And I made decisions from that place—choosing people and situations that reinforced the story I was already telling myself.

Even the small things stuck. A dismissive comment. A look. A joke that hit too close to home. I internalized those moments and built my identity around them. And as I kept repeating those stories to myself, I gave them power. I let them define me.

When I finally sought help for my mental health, one of the first exercises I was given was to write down all the things I believed about myself. Most were negative. Then came the harder part: asking if those things were actually true.

It turned out, most of them weren’t. They were stories I had inherited. And I had the power to release them.


Telling a New Story

Doing the work—challenging those false beliefs—wasn’t easy. But with time, support, and a lot of self-reflection, I began to rewrite the script.

I started telling myself the truth.

That I’m capable. That I’m worthy. That I’m more than enough.

The stories from my past didn’t disappear. But they no longer control me. Today, I use them as tools. When those old narratives resurface, I pause. I ask myself: Is this true? Is this helping me grow? Is this a story I want to keep?

And if the answer is no, I let it go.

Instead, I choose to tell stories of healing. Of courage. Of growth. I choose relationships that reflect the truth of who I am, not the lies I once believed.

You get to choose your story, too.

SLAY on.


SLAY Reflection: What Story Are You Living?

  • Are you holding onto any stories from childhood that no longer serve you?
  • Who or what shaped those beliefs—and are they actually true?
  • What have those stories cost you in your adult life?
  • What’s one belief you could rewrite today?
  • What story would you rather live—and what’s one small step you can take toward it?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one story from your past you’re ready to rewrite?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s still living by an old story that isn’t serving them, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we’re the ones holding the pen.