Tempo: 66.2

Hello, dear listeners, and welcome back to Listening Years Podcast. Today, I want to talk about something that I think a lot of us feel before we even know how to explain it. There comes a point in your life where you realize you've outgrown a version of yourself. Not because she was broken or bad, but because she could only take you so far. And if I'm being honest, I think that realization can be both beautiful and uncomfortable at the same time. Outgrowing a version of yourself sounds empowering when people say it out loud. It sounds strong. It sounds like the kind of thing you post when you've already made peace with everything. But living it, now that's different. Living it can feel like confusion at first. It can feel like noticing that certain things no longer fit. Even though those things used to feel normal. It can feel like feeling comfortable in patterns you've once accepted, or not wanting to explain yourself the way you used to. And that kind of shift is not always loud. Sometimes it happens quietly. You just start noticing. You notice how often you second guess yourself. How often you look outside of yourself for reassurance, especially from other people. And one day that version of you just starts to feel tired. Not weak, just tired. Tired of waiting for validation or permission or shrinking your knowing just to make other people more comfortable with your growth. And that, my friends, is a real kind of exhaustion. I think a lot of women know it all too well because many of us were taught directly or even indirectly to be careful with ourselves. Careful with our truths, our voice, our wants, our desires, careful not to take up too much space and not to move too fast. So we've learned to pause before moving. We've learned to ask after we say everything. Does that make sense? Hmm, will this be accepted? Am I doing too much? And when you live like that long enough, it becomes easy to think that self-doubt is wisdom. And that's the part I want to stop right here on. Self-doubt and wisdom are not the same thing. There comes a point where growth asks you to tell the truth about that. To tell the truth about how many decisions you've delayed because you're waiting to feel more certain. How many times you knew something deep down in your spirit but still looked around the room for permission to believe in yourself. That is training. And when I say I outgrew that version of me, what I'm really trying to say is that I outgrew the version of me who kept looking outside herself for what had to be built inside. When deep down she already knew what needed to change. That doesn't mean that version of me was weak. I want to say that clearly because I think this matters. She was not weak. She was learning, she was surviving, she was doing the best she could with the awareness she had at the time. And I think we need to be careful not to shame the older versions of ourselves just because we've grown beyond them. She may have moved slower than you wanted, she may have questioned herself more than she needed to. She may have stayed too long or explained too much to people. But she was trying. And there's grace in that. Too costly for your peace. Too costly for where you are right now. And for me, I think I think that's what this kind of growth really is. It's not just becoming stronger, it's becoming less willing to betray yourself. That is growth. It's not dramatic all the time. It doesn't always come with a big speech or a major moment. It just looks like moving differently, speaking less, but meaning more, explaining less. Trusting yourself faster. Saying no sooner. Listening to your body and your spirit and what keeps returning to you. And maybe most importantly, it looks like no longer making your own truth wait in line behind everyone else's comfort. Because once you begin to trust yourself, your whole life starts to change. You stop asking everybody what they think before you move. You stop treating your instincts like they need a committee vote. And no, that doesn't mean you become reckless. It doesn't mean that you stop being thoughtful. It means you stop assuming that wisdom only counts if it comes from outside of you in some type of external fashion. That is a very different way to live. And it absolutely changes how you love and move and choose and how much access you give people. Once you outgrow the version of you that needed constant permission, you begin to build a life that actually reflects your standards. And that can feel truly unfamiliar at first and a little lonely. Because not everybody will understand the version of you that stops overexplaining, the version of you that moves with clarity. That doesn't mean you're wrong. It simply means you're growing in a direction that requires a different relationship with yourself and possibly others. Growth is not just about what you leave behind externally, it is also about the relationship you stop having with your old self internally. You become easier to trust. Not because you're never questioning anything again, but because you're not living in constant betrayal of what you already know. That is a deep kind of peace. And I think that's what a lot of women are really looking for. Peace. The peace that comes from saying, I know who I used to be, and I honor her, but I also know I cannot keep living from that version of me anymore. And that is powerful. And maybe that is where you are right now. Maybe you're not completely clear on every detail of your next chapter, but you know enough to know that you can't keep moving the old way. You know enough to know that the version of you who kept waiting or shrinking, overchecking what you're saying, is no longer the version of you that feels true. If that is where you are, I want to say this gently. Trust that you do not need to have every answer before you honor a shift. There's no perfect explanation before you outgrow a pattern. And you definitely do not need everybody around you to understand your evolution in order for it to be real. Sometimes is simply the moment you stop asking permission to become who you already know you are. If this episode leaves you with anything today, let it be this. Outgrowing an old version of yourself is not rejection. It's recognition. It is the moment you realize that you were and can't be honored without being repeated. And that is where a new life starts. Thank you as always for sitting with me today. This is Listening Ears Podcast, and in this season, we are not shrinking to stay familiar. We are allowing ourselves to evolve with honesty, with intention, and with self-respect. In the meantime, be well, and I'll talk to you soon.