I Am My Own Permission Slip

I Am My Own Permission Slip

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For so long, I waited.
For someone to say it was okay.
To take up space.
To want more.
To feel too deeply, ask too loudly, burn too brightly.

I waited for green lights that never came.
For nods of approval.
For softness in someone else’s voice before I dared to soften my own.
Because somewhere along the line, I learned to outsource my worth.
To make my boundaries negotiable.
To make my voice polite.
To make my pleasure conditional.

But the truth is—
No one is coming to hand you your freedom.
No one is going to sign the paper that says:
“You are allowed.”

You have to do it yourself.
Write your own permission slip.
Sign it in the ink of your own knowing.
Not because you’ve earned it—
but because you were always enough.

I am done waiting.
Done seeking approval from systems built to keep me small.
Done apologizing for what makes me feel alive.
Done shrinking to fit someone else’s comfort zone.

I am my own permission slip.

I give myself permission to take up space.
To feel without justification.
To move toward what lights me up.
To say no without guilt, and yes without explanation.
To want, to rest, to rise, to break, to begin again.

The moment you stop waiting for permission
is the moment you begin remembering who you are.

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