Whose permission do you need?

Being permissive

My 40s have been an exercise in being permissive.

I was calling it an exercise in removing restrictions and barriers until I realised that then I was giving power to any remaining restrictions and barriers.

Well, fuck that.

The power is mine.

I claim the power to give myself permission

The emancipation of Shelly

I don’t think that’s unusual - for a woman in her 40s to become more powerful in her own world. But being typical doesn’t make my experience any less incredible to me living it.

It has been nothing less than emancipatory – realising I didn’t need anyone’s permission but mine.

I needed to give myself permission to live the life I wanted to live. I needed to give myself permission to speak the words I wanted to speak. To wear the clothes I wanted to wear. To present myself to the world the way I wanted to be seen.

Removing barriers

This post is the result of me giving myself permission.

I wanted to write a post every day for 40 days.

And, what made that not only possible but REALLY EASY was removing any restrictions about what and how I wrote.

I gave myself permission to write ANYTHING. Not just about writing. Not just about branding. Not just about the things I’m known for, but anything.

I removed a barrier.

I gave myself permission.

It seems like such a tiny thing.

But it’s everything.

Business cards like a badass - designed by another badass

What do YOU need to give yourself permission to do?