Dear Nervous Me: Sometimes You Have to Choose Yourself

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Do you ever get overly anxious about everything?

You worry, and you worry, and you worry some more—even when nothing has actually gone wrong. It is almost like your mind is preparing you for the worst, just in case life decides to surprise you.

That was me today.

I woke up this morning and immediately decided that I did not want to adult. Unfortunately, adulthood did not care about my feelings. The dogs still needed to be taken care of. I still needed to get dressed. I still had work to do.

So, I got up.

And honestly, the day started off great.

I was working on my coaching packages, printing out plans, organizing my ideas, and feeling genuinely excited about the business I am building. My website was coming together. My services made sense. I could see how everything connected.

I felt like I was finally stepping into my purpose.

Then I had a business meeting.

When Someone Else’s Opinion Becomes Your Inner Voice

For the past year, I have worked with a business coaching program.

When I first joined, I hit the ground running. I watched the videos. I did the assignments. I created the business plan.

Then I received feedback.

What came back felt drastically different from what I believed I was trying to build.

Instead of asking questions, explaining myself, or working through the disconnect, I stopped.

That is something I have done more than once.

I begin excited. I make plans. I convince myself that this time I know exactly what I am doing.

Then someone questions it.

Suddenly, I question everything.

Maybe my idea is not good enough.

Maybe it will not work.

Maybe I misunderstood my purpose.

Maybe I should throw the entire thing away and start over.

Today, I felt myself slipping into that same pattern.

I Do Not Want to Help Just One Kind of Person

In business, people constantly tell you to choose a niche.

Help mothers.

Help teenagers.

Help couples.

Help divorced families.

Choose one specific person with one specific problem and speak directly to them.

I understand why people give that advice.

But it has never felt completely right for me.

I do not want to help only one age group or one type of person. Mental health, communication, identity, and emotional growth affect everybody.

Children need help understanding themselves.

Teenagers need help discovering and expressing who they are.

Adults need safe spaces to process the thoughts and emotions they have spent years hiding.

The conversation may look different depending on the person, but the purpose remains the same.

I would not explain something to a five-year-old the same way I would explain it to a teenager. I would not communicate with a verbal child exactly the same way I would communicate with a nonverbal child.

That does not mean the lesson cannot reach both of them.

It means I meet people where they are.

That is what I do.

Communication Is More Than Talking to Other People

At first, I thought the problem I wanted to solve was a lack of communication.

Then I was told that communication was the solution, not the problem.

Fair enough.

But my work is not only about teaching people to communicate with their partners, children, parents, or friends.

It is also about learning how to communicate with yourself.

How do you know what you want if you never ask yourself?

How do you understand your emotions if you refuse to sit with them?

How do you discover who you are if you never give yourself room to explore?

Communicating with yourself can look like journaling, writing, reading, creating, reflecting, trying new things, or simply paying attention to what brings you peace.

I want to help people find a voice they believe they never had—or one they feel they lost somewhere along the way.

That is the work.

I Do Not Market People’s Pain

During the conversation, I was told that I needed to be clearer about my audience so I could market to them.

Again, I understand the concept.

But I do not want to market by convincing people that they are broken.

I do not want to scream:

Are you miserable?

Are you drowning?

Is your life falling apart?

I do not market people’s pain.

I market their hope.

Yes, I want to talk to the mother who does not feel seen.

I want to talk to the teenager hiding in their room because they believe nobody understands them.

I want to talk to the man who works every day, provides for his family, and quietly carries the weight of emotions he has never been allowed to express.

I want to talk to the person hiding huge pieces of themselves because they are terrified of what people might think.

I am here for you.

Not to judge you.

Not to tell you who you are supposed to be.

Not to force you into somebody else’s version of healing.

I am here to sit beside you and say:

“Okay, Bestie. This is where you are. Where do you want to be? Let’s figure out the next step together.”

The Moment I Almost Gave Up Again

When the meeting ended, I felt heavy.

Before the call, my desk was covered with plans, roadmaps, and materials I was excited to create.

After the call, I wanted to go to bed.

I wanted to lie on the couch, shut everything down, and give up.

Not because anyone had done something terrible to me.

I gave their words power.

I heard feedback, but my anxiety translated it into:

This is not good enough.

You do not know what you are doing.

This is never going to work.

Throw it away.

Start over.

And for a moment, I almost listened.

Accountability Helps Me Keep My Word

During the meeting, my pattern was brought up.

I start strong, and then I stop.

I know.

Trust me, nobody is more aware of my habit of disappearing than I am.

That is part of the reason I created the podcast.

I do better when I am forward-facing.

When I tell you I am going to show up, I show up.

When I tell you I am creating something, I push myself to finish it.

I might struggle.

I might get frustrated.

I might stare at my computer and threaten to throw it across the room.

But I do not like letting people down.

Accountability helps me keep my word—even when my anxiety is trying to convince me to hide.

Nervous Does Not Mean Wrong

Later, I spoke with a friend who was nervous to tell me about a major life decision.

She was afraid I might not agree.

But it was not my job to decide what her life should look like.

I could listen.

I could ask questions.

I could offer support.

But ultimately, she gets to decide what she does with her life, and I get to decide how I show up as her friend.

That conversation made something click.

Both of us had spent the day nervous about making choices for our own lives because of what somebody else might think.

How often do we do that?

How often do we feel excited about something until somebody questions it?

How often do we know what we want but allow someone else’s fear, confusion, or opinion to become louder than our own voice?

Nobody else lives your life.

They do not wake up in your body.

They do not carry your dreams.

They do not feel the consequences of the choices you never made because you were afraid of disappointing them.

Sometimes, you have to choose yourself.

Today, I Chose Me

Today, I decided that people may love what I am building, or they may hate it.

Some people will understand it.

Others will not.

That part is outside of my control.

What I can control is whether I believe in the gift I have been given enough to share it.

I know I have something valuable.

I know I have something worth pursuing.

I know I want to help people become better than where they are—not because they are broken, but because we all deserve space to grow.

The people who connect with that message are my people.

The ones who do not are simply not for me.

And that is okay.

I do not need everybody.

Do It for You

People are going to tell you not to do things.

Sometimes they will be protecting you.

Sometimes they will genuinely believe they know what is best.

Sometimes they simply will not understand what you see.

Listen to wise advice. Consider the risks. Do not make choices that intentionally harm you or someone else.

But when it comes to pursuing a dream, accepting a job, moving somewhere new, starting a business, creating something meaningful, or taking a chance on yourself—you may have to make the decision without everyone’s approval.

Do it nervous.

Do it uncertain.

Do it while your hands shake.

Do it even when nobody is watching.

Do it even when people are secretly waiting for you to fail.

Do it for you.

You never know who your decision might help.

For me, continuing helps the little girl inside me who once felt invisible and unable to speak up.

I will not let her remain invisible.

And I will not build a business that encourages anyone else to disappear either.

My Bite of Pie

My bite of pie today was simple:

I said, “Forget them. I am continuing with my plan.”

I am going to finish my packages.

I am going to list them on my website.

I am going to talk proudly about my business.

I am going to market it in the way that feels honest to me.

Not by convincing people that their lives are terrible.

But by reminding them that they deserve the opportunity to become better than where they are today.

Sometimes, we do the hard things while nobody is watching.

Sometimes, we do them while others cheer for us.

And sometimes, we do them while people cheer against us.

Do it anyway.

Today is another page in the story.

It does not have to be perfect.

It just has to be written.

Before you close your journal tonight, ask yourself:

What was your bite of pie today?