Confidence Doesn't Come First. Movement Does.

Readiness is a myth that keeps you waiting

You think you need to feel ready before you make the change. Before you leave the job. Before you end the relationship. Before you book the trip. Before you speak up. Before you try the thing that’s been quietly calling to you.

But that’s not how it works.

Most people spend so much energy protecting themselves from what might go wrong that they never get around to living.

They play it safe. They wait. They convince themselves that someday, when the timing is better, when they’re more prepared, when the kids are grown, when they lose the weight, when they feel more confident—then they’ll make the move.

But someday never comes.

How courage actually gets built (it’s not what you think)

You know what builds courage? Doing the thing that scares you and not dying.

I’m serious.

It’s not about becoming fearless. It’s about becoming someone who moves forward despite the fear, discovers they survived, and then does it again.

You start small. Not with the life-altering decision, but with the thing that makes your stomach flip just a little.

Maybe it’s saying no when you normally say yes. Maybe it’s speaking up when you’d usually stay quiet. Maybe it’s ordering what you actually want at the restaurant instead of asking everyone else what they’re getting first (yes, that counts.)

Here’s the truth about building courage: it’s not about becoming fearless. It’s about becoming someone who moves forward despite the fear.

These small acts of self-trust accumulate. They build evidence. Evidence that you can handle discomfort. Evidence that nothing terrible happens when you prioritize yourself. Evidence that you’re more capable than you thought.

Then you graduate to slightly bigger things. You have the hard conversation. You set the boundary. You make the choice that disappoints someone else but honors you.

And here’s what happens: you discover that you can tolerate the discomfort. You learn that other people’s disappointment doesn’t destroy you. You realize that guilt is just a feeling, not a fact about your worth.

Each time you choose yourself, you’re rewiring your nervous system. You’re teaching your body that it’s safe to take up space. You’re proving to yourself that you can be trusted with your own life.

That’s how courage gets built. Not in one dramatic moment, but in a hundred small decisions to stop abandoning yourself. Every uncomfortable step strengthens something inside you. Every scary choice makes the next one easier. The more you act, the more you trust yourself. The more you trust yourself, the freer you become.

Thinking about it won’t get you there. Calculating every risk won’t either.

At some point, you have to stop rehearsing your life and start living it.

Because here’s what happens when you actually move: you learn. You adapt. You become more resourceful. You surprise yourself.

And each time you survive something you thought would break you, you expand your capacity for risk. You realize that most of what you were afraid of was the story you told yourself about what would happen, not what actually happened.

The scary conversation? Not as scary as the six months you spent avoiding it.

The big change? Not as hard as the years you spent pretending you were fine.

The part where I tell you about moving. Again.

Five years ago, I left Chicago after 40 years and moved to Florida and built a life I loved.

Recently, I decided to move back to Chicago to be close to my grandchildren. It made perfect sense. It’s what grandmothers are supposed to do, right? Be nearby. Be available. Be the person who shows up.

And I wanted to be that person.

Except here’s the thing: I’m moving back to Florida.

I can already hear it. “Wait, didn’t you just move back to Chicago in August? What happened? Are you okay? Did something go wrong?”

Nothing went wrong. That’s the whole point.

Not because family doesn’t matter. I finally understood something I should have known from the beginning: I can love my children and still honor what my life needs to feel alive. These two things aren’t mutually exclusive.

I can be a grandmother who visits. Who FaceTimes. Who sends care packages and shows up for the big moments. I can be someone they love and remember fondly.

And I can also live in a place where I wake up every day and think, “Yes. This makes me happy.”

Will some people think I’m selfish? Absolutely. Will some people not understand? Definitely. Will my friends have opinions? Oh, you better believe it.

But here’s what I’m done with: building my life around what other people think makes sense.

The goal is to wake up in a life that feels like yours.

Build a life you don’t need to escape from

Think about that for a second.

How much of your current life exists because you thought you should build it that way? How much of it is what other people expected? How much of it no longer fits who you’re becoming?

You can change it. Not someday. Not when everything feels right.

Now.

Start small if you need to. One uncomfortable conversation. One boundary set. One choice that honors what you actually want instead of what you think you should want.

Each step builds the next.

The discomfort gets more familiar. The fear gets quieter. Your tolerance for other people’s opinions expands. Your commitment to yourself deepens.

You’re never going to feel ready

I know. Not what you want to hear. You keep thinking that if you just plan a little more, think it through one more time, wait for the right moment, then you’ll feel confident enough to make the move.

But that’s not how it works.

Every uncomfortable step strengthens something inside you. Every scary choice makes the next one easier. The more you act, the more you trust yourself. The more you trust yourself, the freer you become.

At some point, you have to stop rehearsing your life and start living it.

Not by feeling ready first. Not by waiting for permission. Not by making sure everyone else is comfortable with your choices.

By moving. By doing the scary thing. By choosing yourself even when it feels selfish.

By trusting that you’ll figure it out as you go.

Most people are too busy playing it safe to actually live

Because here’s what happens when you actually move: you learn. You adapt. You become more resourceful. You surprise yourself.

And each time you survive something you thought would break you, you expand your capacity for risk. You realize that most of what you were afraid of was the story you told yourself about what would happen, not what actually happened.

The scary conversation? Not as scary as the six months you spent avoiding it.

The big change? Not as hard as the years you spent pretending you were fine.

What’s one thing you’d do tomorrow if you knew no one would judge you for it?

Now ask yourself: Why aren’t you doing it?

Is it because it’s actually dangerous? Or because you’re afraid of disappointing someone? Because it’s truly impossible? Or because you’ve convinced yourself it is?

Most of the time, we’re not protecting ourselves from real danger. We’re protecting ourselves from imagined judgment. From the discomfort of being seen as selfish or reckless or irresponsible.

But what if being a little selfish is exactly what you need? What if “reckless” is just another word for brave? What if the most responsible thing you can do is take responsibility for your own happiness?

What magical thing needs to happen before you give yourself permission?

Because I’m going to tell you: it’s not coming. The perfect timing isn’t coming. The feeling of absolute certainty isn’t coming. The moment when everyone supports your decision and no one questions you—that’s definitely not coming.

So stop waiting to feel ready.

Courage comes to those who move, not to those who wait.

The life you want is on the other side of the move you’re afraid to make.

And it will never feel completely safe.

But that’s exactly how you know it’s worth doing.

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Personal note: I’m moving this weekend, so I may be off the “grid” for a few days next week.

The Midlife Clarity Assessment is here.

You know that restless feeling? The one that wakes you up at 3am whispering, “Something’s gotta change”—but you can’t name what or where to start?

This assessment is your starting point. It helps you figure out what’s actually shifting inside you and what to do about it.

Finally, a roadmap to know what to do next.