I Gave Myself Permission

I used to wait on other people to give me permission. I waited for someone to offer the opportunity. To notice the work. To tell me I was ready, qualified, or worthy of being in the room.

I told myself I was being patient. Sometimes I was protecting my ego. If someone approached me first, I could feel certain they wanted me there. If I reached out and they said no, I would have to sit with the possibility that I wasn't what they were looking for.

But waiting comes with its own cost.

I wonder how many opportunities passed me by while I was waiting to feel completely sure.

Today, my life looks different from how it once did. I'm a family nurse practitioner, a practice owner, an author, and a woman in recovery. Recently, I had an opinion piece published in Newsweek. As new opportunities come my way, I sometimes stop and think about the woman I used to be—and how impossible some of this would have seemed to her.

I know what it feels like to be ashamed of your past. I know what it feels like to wonder if people will ever see you differently. I also know what it takes to keep going when the life you want seems a long way from the life you're living.

There was a time when I worried that my history would keep me from becoming a nurse practitioner. Would a school accept me? Would I do all the work only to encounter a barrier I couldn't cross?

I applied anyway.

I didn't have every answer. I had enough hope to take the first step and enough determination to see what happened next.

That experience taught me something I still practice: when I want to do something, I start by finding out how.

I research. I ask questions. I look at the requirements. I consider what I can do with the resources and experience I have. I try to take the next step rather than talking myself out of the entire journey before it begins.

And yes, I still feel nervous. Believing in yourself doesn't mean you never question yourself. It means doubt doesn't have to make every decision for you.

I've also learned that other people will have opinions about what you can do. Some will offer useful advice. Listen to it. Learn from people who have knowledge and experience you respect. But be careful about allowing someone else's doubt to become your own.

There is a difference between considering feedback and handing another person authority over your future.

I'm learning to trust the work I've done, the lessons I've learned, and the person I'm becoming. I'm also learning to enjoy the life I once prayed for.

That part has taken practice.

When you've lived through difficult seasons, happiness can feel unfamiliar. You may find yourself waiting for the next thing to go wrong, as though joy is something you have to pay back later.

I don't want to live that way anymore.

I want to celebrate the moments that matter. I want to spend time with the people I love, laugh, make plans, and be grateful for opportunities when they arrive. I want to keep growing without treating every accomplishment as nothing more than a stepping stone to the next one.

There will always be another goal. There will also be today. I don't want to miss it because I'm too busy worrying about whether I've earned it.

If there is something you've been wanting to do, start by looking into it. You don't have to map out the rest of your life tonight. Ask one question. Send one email. Research the program. Make the call. Take the step that is in front of you.

You may get a no. I know that can hurt. But you may also get a yes—and discover that the door you thought was closed was waiting for you to knock.

I no longer need anyone to believe in me before I believe in myself.

I believe in me.

And that's enough.