I’ve been thinking a lot about permission lately…

There was a season in my life — I remember it vividly — when the only quiet place I could find was our front porch. Not a cozy corner, not a spa day, not the bathroom with the door locked (the universal mom getaway). Nope. The front porch.

And every morning, I’d sneak out there with my meditation cushion like I was smuggling myself away. The kids were inside, the house was awake, and I made a decision: This 10 minutes is mine.

I even hung a sign on the inside of the front door that said, “Unless someone is bleeding or there is a fire, do not come out here.”

It was the first time I consciously gave myself permission.
Permission to be unavailable.
Permission to breathe.
Permission to choose myself — even for a short moment.

And let me tell you… the world did not fall apart.
It didn’t even wobble.

That’s the thing about permission. We spend years waiting for someone else to hand it to us — a partner, a boss, a friend, society, a gold star from the universe — and meanwhile, the only person who can truly give it is… well, us.

And for me, when I give myself permission, it feels like lightness and space. A lifting of that internal weight of “shoulds” and “musts” and “everyone-else-comes-first.” It removes the decision fatigue. It frees up emotional and mental real estate that I didn’t even realize had been overcrowded.

And I say this with love, this is the hard truth:
No one else is coming to save your time. That’s your sacred job.

And somewhere along the way — between motherhood, work, home life, and all the invisible labor none of us signed up for — many of us forget that.

Permission Is a Practice

Permission isn’t a one-time moment of empowerment. It doesn’t happen once on a front porch and then magically take root forever.

It’s a practice.
A muscle.
A way of living.

Sometimes it looks obvious and intentional, like me meditation-signing my way into 10 minutes of daily sanity.

Other times, it sneaks up in quieter ways.

Like the afternoon when everyone was out of the house and the silence was so loud I didn’t know what to do with myself. You’d think I would have settled into the couch with a book, or stretched out on the bed, or just… sat there.

Nope.

I popped up like I was spring-loaded.

Let me go fold something.
Let me organize something.
Let me clean something.
Let me do something that no one will notice and that doesn’t move the needle on anything that actually matters.

That hit me — hard — I did not know how to rest. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I had never given myself permission to.

Permission at Work: The Radical Act of Protecting Your Own Time

Let’s look at another example. Long before I started coaching, I spent decades in corporate America. And for most of that time, I operated under the unspoken rule that everyone else’s priorities were more important than my own. Lunch at my desk? Check. Late nights at the laptop? Check-check. Back-to-back-to-back-to-back meetings flooding my calendar? You guessed it…check.

Until one day… I broke the rule.

I started blocking my calendar.
Lunch: blocked.
Deep work time: blocked.
Breathing room between meetings: blocked.
A little white space at the end of the day: blocked.

And you know what?
No one took away my badge.
No one scolded me.
No one even noticed — aside from me, feeling the spaciousness of finally owning my hours.

Permission doesn’t have to be loud.
It can be… quietly revolutionary. (And boy did I feel like a rebel!)

So What Does Permission Look Like for You?

Here’s what I know after coaching so many overwhelmed, overcommitted women:

We carry permission invites inside us… We just rarely open them.

Consider this your gentle nudge (okay, fine — your loving shove) into exploring your own permission slip.

Maybe you need permission to…

• rest

• be imperfect

• not carry it all

• ask for help

• slow down

• say no without guilt

• change your mind

• want more

• stop trying to be Superwoman

• be human

• take up space

• do things differently than your mother, peer group, or society expects

Which ones made your chest expand a little?
Which ones made your shoulders drop?
Which ones sparked a “whoa, that one’s for me?”

Those are the ones that matter.

Permission Takes Courage (But Not the Loud Kind)

Giving yourself permission won’t always feel natural. It might feel uncomfortable, selfish, or even a little rebellious.

Because as women — and especially as moms — we’ve been conditioned to put ourselves at the end of the line.
And then we wonder why we’re exhausted.
Why we’re resentful.
Why we’re living a life that feels like it belongs to everyone but us.

Permission is how we reclaim it.

The quiet courage of saying:

“I matter.”
“My needs matter.”
“My time matters.”
“My energy matters.”

It’s not dramatic.
It’s not defiant.

It’s a return to yourself.

Start Here: Your Own Permission Slip

If you’re not sure where to start, try this:

Ask yourself: “Where do I feel the tightest, most resentful, most drained?”
Then ask: “What would permission look like here?”

You will know the answer.
Your body already does.

Maybe it’s permission to rest.
Maybe it’s permission to say no to something that’s been haunting your calendar.
Maybe it’s permission to stop overfunctioning.
Maybe it’s permission to let something be good enough.

And if you need a sign?
Here you go — and I’ll say it with love:

You don’t need anyone’s approval to take the time, space, or breath you’ve been craving.

That approval is yours—and yours alone—to give.

A Final Thought — and an Invitation

That porch meditation?
It taught me more than mindfulness.
It taught me that boundaries aren’t always about locking the world out.
Sometimes they’re about letting yourself in.

Giving yourself permission is the gateway to the life you want to live — one with more peace, presence, and control… and far less guilt, resentment, and overwhelm.

So what do YOU want to give yourself permission for today?

Find your word, your phrase, or your permission slip.
Claim it.
Write it.
Whisper it.
Say it out loud.

Because when you do?

You step back into your power — one decision, one boundary, one small moment of permission at a time.

If you’re ready to give yourself permission, let’s talk.

If this post stirred something in you — if you’re tired of carrying it all, tired of waiting for permission, tired of running on fumes — then let’s explore what life could look like with more time, more energy, and more support.

I’ve opened a few spots for a Boundary Clarity Call — a free, 30-minute space where we’ll untangle one challenge you’re carrying and map out your next right step toward a life with more breathing room.

No pressure. No judgment. Just clarity, connection, and a path forward.

You don’t have to do this alone.
Book your Boundary Clarity Call here.