They told you to tone it down.
To be softer. Smaller. Quieter.
But what if you were never meant to be contained?
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How often do you find yourself apologizing? For speaking up, for showing up, for simply being?
Who else (besides me) is guilty of doing this? Shrinking your voice, your ideas, your confidence, your very presence?
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To the woman who’s always on the go, carrying the weight of everything—and to the one who only has a minute while reading this on the toilet (because, let’s be honest, that’s the only break you’re getting):
I’m giving you permission to daydream this holiday season.
Your days are a blur of responsibilities—work, kids, errands, relationships, caretaking. But where, in all that, is there room for you?
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