Permission

There was a season where I quietly stopped giving myself permission to be visibly joyful.

Not because joy disappeared completely.

But because responsibility became so heavy that there wasn’t much room for it.

For the better part of the last year, my life revolved around grief, impossible decisions, and carrying responsibilities that affected thousands of people. Every choice mattered. Every word was scrutinized. Every decision had real consequences for people I care deeply about.

Somewhere along the way, I made myself smaller.

I didn’t stop living my life, and I didn’t stop writing about it. My blog remained a place where I shared honestly and openly. But I became much quieter with the wider audience that knows me through Facebook. I shared less. Celebrated less. Allowed people to see less of the joy that existed alongside the hard.

Part of it was the weight of leadership. Part of it was knowing that while I might be experiencing a wonderful day, someone else in my community was living through one of the hardest seasons of theirs. Part of it was the awareness that there would always be someone watching, judging, or misunderstanding.

I remember having COVID and choosing to attend a school board meeting from home rather than expose others to my illness. Someone questioned my integrity because I had also shared something positive about my life on Facebook, as though joy and illness couldn’t possibly exist at the same time.

Moments like that reinforce a quiet message: stay small. Don’t celebrate too much. Don’t let people see you enjoying your life.

Looking back, I understand why I did it.

I reduced myself to fit the responsibility I was carrying.

And that’s okay.

That version of me showed up when she was needed. She carried more than most people will ever know. She made difficult decisions, absorbed criticism, and kept going.

But she doesn’t need to lead this next chapter.

These last few weeks have reminded me how much I love this life and how much I love me.

I love unexpected adventures. Beautiful restaurants. Fresh flowers. Unique jewelry that tells a story. Days on the water. New places. New experiences. New friendships. Adventure. The feeling of saying yes to something simply because it fills me with wonder.

None of those things are frivolous.

They are investments in a life that feels vibrant and fully lived.

So I’m giving myself permission.

Permission to play.

Permission to share my joy more openly.

Permission to buy beautiful things simply because I love them.

Permission to celebrate without apologizing.

Permission to be visibly excited about this one precious life I’ve been given.

Life will ask difficult things of me again.

When it does, I’ll meet them.

But I’m no longer going to confuse being responsible with becoming smaller.

I’m not becoming someone new.

I’m simply giving myself permission to stop hiding the parts of me that have always loved beauty, adventure, celebration, and delight.

It turns out those parts belonged here all along.

And—

Beautiful jewelry? Absolutely.

A Birkin? Let’s not get carried away.