"The older I get, the more I realize I've spent my life waiting for someone else to tell me it's okay to be me."
I've been carrying something around lately, and maybe writing it down is the first step in finally letting it go.
The older I get, the more I realize how much of my life has been spent waiting.
Waiting for approval.
Waiting for encouragement.
Waiting for someone to tell me,
"That's a great idea. You should do it."
Waiting for someone to clap before I even stepped onto the stage.
It's exhausting.
"Nobody is coming to give you permission. And maybe that's the greatest gift you'll ever receive."
Losing my parents changed something inside me.
Becoming a mother changed something else.
Somewhere between grief, responsibility, growing older, and trying to figure out who the hell I am...
I realized something.
Nobody is coming to rescue me.
Nobody is coming to convince me.
Nobody is coming to magically believe in me before I believe in myself.
For years I've looked at the people closest to me hoping they'd be excited about my dreams.
I wanted the text message.
The phone call.
The "I'm proud of you."
The excitement.
Instead...
I've often been met with silence.
Sarcasm.
Indifference.
Or that subtle energy that somehow makes you feel ridiculous for even trying.
The hardest part?
I let it stop me.
I'd get excited about something.
A podcast.
Photography.
Writing.
Starting a business.
Posting that video.
Then all it took was one person's lack of enthusiasm...
...and suddenly I questioned everything.
As if someone else's opinion somehow became more important than the voice inside my own head.
"Some people don't celebrate your dreams because they stopped believing in their own."
I'm starting to understand something.
Not everyone is meant to understand your vision.
Some people genuinely love you...
...and still don't know how to encourage you.
Others unintentionally project their own fears onto you.
Neither of those things gets to decide what happens with my life.
Then a thought hit me one night that honestly scared me.
One day...
I'll be old.
Wrinkly.
Hopefully still sarcastic.
Maybe sitting on a porch somewhere.
Maybe in a hospice bed.
Maybe looking back over eighty years of life.
And I don't want my biggest memories to be all the things I never did because I was waiting for someone else's approval.
I don't want my life to become one long list of...
"What if?"
What if I started the podcast?
What if I shared my adoption story?
What if I stopped worrying about looking stupid?
What if I simply lived the life that kept calling me?
"Regret weighs a lot more than embarrassment."
I'm beginning to realize something that would've sounded selfish to the younger version of me.
I have to become my own cheerleader.
Not because I don't need people.
I do.
We all do.
But because I can't keep putting my dreams on hold every time someone else doesn't clap.
Sometimes the room stays quiet.
You create anyway.
Sometimes nobody comments.
You post anyway.
Sometimes nobody understands.
You build anyway.
Maybe this is what growing up actually looks like.
Not paying bills.
Not getting older.
Not having kids.
Maybe it's finally realizing that your life belongs to you.
Not your family.
Not your partner.
Not your friends.
Not strangers on the internet.
You.
"Stop waiting for permission. Start becoming the person you've been asking permission to be."
So this is my promise.
I'm going to create even if nobody watches.
I'm going to post even if nobody likes it.
I'm going to tell my story even if it makes people uncomfortable.
Because one day I will be old.
And I'd rather remember the moments I was brave...
Than spend my final years wondering who I could have been.
❤️
Love always,
Lucy
💬 I'd love to hear from you...
Have you ever stopped yourself from chasing something because someone else's opinion got inside your head?
Leave a comment below.
Let's remind each other that we don't need permission to start living.