I didn’t always believe this.
Not in a loud, obvious way.
But in small decisions.
Quiet ones.
The kind no one else sees.
There was always a pause.
I remember exactly what that pause felt like.
I held something in my hands—something I had wanted for a long time.
I had waited for it.
Looked at it more than once.
Thought about it more than I would admit.
And when it was finally in front of me—
I hesitated.
Not because I couldn’t have it.
But because something in me said—
not yet.
As if there was some invisible point I had to reach first.
Some version of myself that was more ready.
More deserving.
So I put it back.
And in that moment, I didn’t question it.
It felt normal.
That quiet withholding.
That instinct to delay something I already knew I wanted.
I did that in other ways too.
Choosing later.
Choosing less.
Telling myself, this is enough.
More often than not, it wasn’t.
There was always that ‘what if.’
It was just what I had learned to accept.
But it didn’t mean it gave me joy.
I was so used to the old programming that I learned to see past the truth in front of me and just shrug it off.
It took time for me to see it clearly.
That it wasn’t about the thing.
It was about permission.
Permission to have something simply because it felt right.
Not because it was necessary.
Not because it was earned in some measurable way.
But because I wanted it.
I wanted it.
That moment stayed with me.
More than I expected.
Until one day, something shifted.
I stopped asking if I needed it.
And started asking—
what would it feel like to allow this?
To not hold back.
To not delay.
To not shrink the moment after choosing it.
And when I finally said yes—
it wasn’t dramatic.
But it was clear.
Something softened.
Not just in what I had.
But in how I allowed myself to live.
Now, I notice it differently.
In the way I choose.
In the way I no longer hesitate the same way.
In the way I let beauty exist in my life without questioning it.
I didn’t suddenly become someone who has everything.
But I became someone who no longer withholds from herself what feels right.
And that, to me—
was the beginning.
—-
With elegance and quiet fire,
Lady E
Founder, Glow by Lady E
An editorial space for stories, art, and intentional living
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