10/09/2026
The hardest person I ever had to choose was me.
A few weeks ago someone asked me for a favour. About an hour of my time.
I said no. I could have done it. Doing it would have meant choosing their peace over mine.
My peace comes before anyone else’s now.
I used to do this for years.
Looking back, the clues were everywhere. Silently rehearsing what to say to impress someone.
That needy little voice inside going pick me, see me, hear me (ugh, I hate how that feels in my body).
The frustration when things weren’t said in exactly the tone I’d needed.
It was exhausting. I just didn’t know that’s what it was.
I thought it was them, they didn’t love me enough, like me enough, appreciate me enough.
Then I thought it was me, I needed to try harder, be more impressive, be kinder, be more.
Nothing I did was ever going to be enough. I was looking for the missing piece in everyone except the one person who actually had it. Me.
Choosing myself has meant learning to be okay when someone’s not happy with me, and the closer they are, the harder, and the more freeing, that is.
It’s meant accepting that feeling good about my life was never anyone else’s job but mine.
As a recovered class-A victim player, that one nearly broke me open, in the best way.
It’s not a one-time thing. The more I grow, the deeper I realise I need to go all in on nourishing and honouring myself and my needs.
It started off as something I found really hard. But like I tell my clients, it’s about choosing our hard.
That favour was mine.
