I feel like I spent my twenties waiting for someone to grant me permission to do stuff.
To change my mind about the career I’d chosen. To let go of a relationship I KNEW wasn’t working. To draw and write and paint and dance and bake after a decade of being creatively blocked. To share what I’ve learned with others. To take time off—and enjoy doing nothing.
But you know what? Life feels better when I give *myself* permission.
So here’s a reminder that:
You’re allowed to take up space.
You’re allowed to have feelings. Big ones.
You’re allowed to ask for what you want.
You’re allowed to change your mind. At any time. About anything.
You’re allowed to say no. At any time. To anything.
(And you’re allowed to do it without giving excuses or explaining yourself.)
You’re allowed to have a different opinion. And voice it.
You’re allowed to be wrong, make mistakes, and fuck up. You’re human, go easy on yourself.
You’re allowed to call yourself a writer/artist/healer/coach/[insert title here].You don’t need to say you’re “aspiring” to be one. Claim it.
You’re allowed to create things and put them out into the world. Even if you think they suck.
You’re allowed to be a sexual being. A hot one.
You’re allowed to receive pleasure and enjoy it.
You’re allowed to be loud, outrageous, and piss people off.
You’re allowed to be shy, quiet, and leave early.
You’re allowed to be selfish. Nobody will ever treat you better than you treat yourself.
You’re allowed to do things just for fun.
You’re allowed to hate the stuff you’re supposed to love (like parties).
You’re allowed to love the stuff you’re supposed to hate (like spending time alone).
You’re allowed to tell people to go fuck themselves.
You’re allowed to quit your job.
You’re allowed to stay at the same job forever. And ask for more money to do it.
You’re allowed to delete your social media accounts.
You’re allowed to reject the rules and question assumptions.
In short? You’re allowed to do whatever you want.
It’s your life. You make the rules. And if your rules don’t serve you, give yourself permission to break ‘em.
And remember that, as Mary Anne Radmacher said, “courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow’.”
