Signs giving you permission to explore, to remind you it's your turn to go for it. — Photo by Tim Mossholder

I’ve had a lot of conversations lately where a writer wasn’t taking action because they were unconsciously waiting for someone to give them permission. They wanted someone to tell them their writing was good enough to pursue, that they were ready to pitch agents, that their story was worth telling.

And then 😱 I realized I was doing the exact same thing! Not just with my writing, but with my whole dang life.

Then my brilliant friend Irene Salter, a neuroscientist and sought-after leadership coach, gave me permission to do things differently. Since then, magical things have been opening up. I’ll tell you more about that later in this post. For now, know that if you find yourself stalling on an action—any action—because you’re waiting for someone to tell you it’s okay, I see you.

Maybe you’re waiting for an agent to show interest before finishing your book
Maybe you need someone to say you’re not selfish or self-centered for writing about your life
Maybe you don’t want to start until you have another credential behind your name
Maybe you’re holding off on the story you really want to tell because you’re focused on the story you “should” write
Maybe you believe traditional publishers won’t look at you without an MFA or big social-media following (They will!)
Maybe you do have an MFA and a big social following, so you’re not sure it’s okay to self-publish. (It is more than okay! Prestige is overrated).

It’s sneaky, this propensity to outsource permission. It can dress up like “gathering advice” or “polishing until it’s perfect” or “not taking time or money away from your family,” but usually, it’s really just fear in a cuter outfit.

1. You Might Already Know What to Do

Here’s how you can tell:

If you find yourself repeatedly asking five different people (or five different Reddit threads) the same question in five different ways, it’s probably not because you don’t know the answer.

Or if, like me, you keep saying you’ll do it when …the kids are back in school…you’ve finished this one last project….you’ve hit that revenue goal…when things settle down, but then you keep moving that goal post, it’s probably not about the timing.

It’s because the answer feels uncomfortable. Or risky. Or like something you’re “not supposed” to do. Or not ready for. Or not worthy of.

I’ve had clients come to me asking if anyone will care what they have to say, if it’s worth writing their book even if there’s no guarantee it’ll get published, if they can leave an agent who is being flakey, or if they can say no to a book deal that doesn’t feel right. Yes, yes, and yes.

They already know what they want to do—they’re just hoping someone will say, “Yes, you’re allowed.”

And hey, if that’s you right now: you’re allowed.

2. Why It Feels So Hard

There are a lot of reasons we learn to seek permission from outside ourselves:

We were raised to be “nice” or “low maintenance.”
We spend K-12 and beyond being graded on everything we create
We’re hard wired to fear rejection
We genuinely want to do the right thing

It’s not a character flaw. It’s conditioning. But if you’re trying to build something that’s truly yours—your voice, your story, your life—then looking for someone else’s approval will get in your way.

You can learn from other people and weigh their advice, but ultimately, you’re the only one who knows what it costs to keep saying yes when your whole system is screaming no. (Or vice versa.)

3. What Giving Yourself Permission Looks Like

It might look relatively small, like setting your auto responder and spending a day listening to what your heart really wants

It might look huge, like applying to a degree program, or a residency, or a fellowship

It might look selfish, like skipping a family visit so you can spend the day writing (or recovering with nachos on the couch in your pajamas—whatever).

Or it might look messy, like bashing out the ugliest draft ever written instead of waiting until you have the right turn of phrase or that perfect bit of research

I’ll tell you how it looks for me right now.

The past couple of years have been… a lot. Finding a new school for my kids, moving, my husband being away at training for two months, suddenly losing an old friend far too young, almost losing another, and now I’m grappling with a beloved aunt’s grave diagnosis.

Life has cracked open and asked me to take a long, hard look at what I’m doing—personally and professionally. It doesn’t help that I’m facing down the specter of a new decade before too long (hello, age-with-a-zero), or maybe it’s just the inevitable reckoning we all face at some point: What really matters? And what needs to change?

While I love the students and clients I’ve worked with and the books they’ve published, I’m also itching to teach and coach in a way that is more aligned with my life and heart…the problem is I don’t know what that is yet. At all.

And I know I won’t get there by following my normal MO. I have a bad habit.

When I get a new idea, I tend to run at it full speed with my well-developed, magna-cum-laude energy. I build the whole thing out. I spin up the website, write the copy, make the workbooks, start sketching out the program or retreat or mastermind or whatever shiny thing I’ve convinced myself has to happen right now.

And then… a few weeks or months or years later, I realize I’ve built the wrong thing. Or the right thing in the wrong way. Or something that doesn’t quite align with what I want to be doing—or who I want to be—anymore.

So now, thanks to Irene Salter, for the first time I can remember, I’m practicing something radical: waiting.

Irene helped me realize that it’s okay to stop and explore. That I don’t have to know what’s next. That I have earned a break from the hustle. (Why is it so hard to let ourselves rest?!)

She gave me permission to spend the next 6 months exploring. To put all my new ideas in a parking lot file rather than setting new plans in motion. To tell people I don’t know when I’m going to take on 1:1 clients again. I don’t know when I’m going to run the intensive, fully-live versions of my courses again. I don’t know when I’m going to host another retreat.

I’m intentionally accepting less income, less certainty, and less external validation so that I can earn more alignment, more calm, and more trust in myself.

Saying “I don’t know” is mighty uncomfortable!!! So is turning away dream clients. So is investing time in my new book when I don’t know if it will be a success. Especially as someone who’s always prided herself on being the one who makes things happen. I’ve built a life and career around earning straight As, fulfilling every request, leaping into every opportunity, doing The Most. And then beating myself up for everything that falls through the cracks anyway.

Until recently, I was chasing so many ideas with so little time, so much perceived risk and so many people I didn’t want to disappoint. Until I got that permission slip.

Seriously, I literally created one for myself after getting off the phone with Irene. (You also get a sneak preview of our almost finished kitchen renovation. Did I mention that with everything else going on we bought a serious fixer upper? 🤪)