self-awareness

Slay Say

The Echo of Fear

Not every fear belongs to this moment.

Some are inherited through old pain—
the kind that lingers long after the wound has healed.
They whisper familiar stories,
convincing you you’re in danger when you’re simply remembering.

Growth asks for discernment.
To pause before reacting.
To recognize when your heart is protecting you from ghosts instead of threats.

This is your reminder to breathe before you run—
to listen long enough to know if what you’re hearing
is truth… or just an echo.

Slay On!

Slay Say

Own Your Part Without Passing the Pain

True growth isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being accountable. It’s recognizing when you’ve hurt someone and taking ownership of it without turning the spotlight or the blame back on them.

Maturity is the ability to sit with discomfort long enough to say, “I was wrong,” without needing to defend, deflect, or explain it away.

This is your reminder that healing doesn’t come from shifting the blame—it comes from standing in your truth with grace.

Slay On!

Frustration Is an Invitation You Don’t Have to Accept

We all know the feeling—traffic that doesn’t move, a conversation that goes sideways, a plan that unravels in real time. Frustration builds, and before you know it, you’re simmering in anger, irritation, or resentment.

But here’s the truth that changed everything for me: frustration is always self-induced.

The outside world can invite us to be upset, yes—but we are the ones who accept the invitation.

When I first heard this idea, I bristled. Surely the rude driver, the unfair boss, the inattentive friend—they were the source of my frustration. But as I dug deeper, I realized the common denominator in every moment of anger was me. I was the one choosing to hold onto the irritation, the one letting it hijack my energy, the one letting the external world dictate my internal peace.

And that was the moment I understood: I can’t always control what happens, but I can always control whether or not I RSVP to frustration’s invitation.

The Hidden Cost of Accepting the Invitation

Frustration feels powerful in the moment. It gives us something to cling to, a sense of being “right,” or even righteous. But that power is fleeting, and the cost is high.

Every time we accept frustration’s invitation, we:

  • Drain our energy on things that don’t serve us.
  • Poison our mood, often for hours or days after the fact.
  • Damage relationships by reacting instead of responding.
  • Distract ourselves from solutions by obsessing over problems.

When I look back at my own life, I see how many days I lost this way—days spent stewing instead of living, days consumed by anger that did nothing but make me miserable. And all of it was preventable.

The truth? Frustration doesn’t come from what happened. It comes from the story we tell ourselves about what happened.

Pause Before You RSVP

The good news is that frustration is optional. Just because you’re invited doesn’t mean you have to attend.

Here’s what I practice today:

  1. Notice the rise. That heat in my chest, that quickening of my thoughts—I know frustration is knocking.
  2. Ask: Is this worth my peace? Nine times out of ten, the answer is no.
  3. Choose my response. Instead of spiraling, I take a breath. Sometimes I literally step away. Sometimes I laugh at how small the trigger really is. Sometimes I pray.
  4. Reframe. Instead of “Why is this happening to me?” I ask, “What is this showing me?” That shift turns frustration into information.

When I don’t RSVP to the invitation, I keep my power. I keep my peace. And I remember: the world doesn’t get to run my emotions—I do.

Frustration Reveals What We Value

Here’s the part most people miss: frustration isn’t all bad. It’s actually a teacher, if we’re willing to listen.

Frustration shows us what matters to us, what we expect, what boundaries may need adjusting. For example:

  • If traffic frustrates me, maybe it’s not about the cars—it’s about my lack of preparation or my need for control.
  • If someone interrupts me and I feel rage, maybe it’s pointing me to a wound around not feeling heard.
  • If I’m furious that a plan changed, maybe it’s about my deeper need for certainty and security.

When I stop blaming the outside world and start looking inward, frustration becomes less of a punishment and more of a flashlight.

It shines a light on the gap between my expectations and reality—and that’s where my work begins.

Choosing Peace Over Frustration

It’s not about denying your feelings. It’s about remembering that frustration is optional. You always have another choice:

  • You can let go. Not everything deserves a reaction.
  • You can laugh. Humor disarms frustration in a heartbeat.
  • You can learn. Ask what this moment is teaching you.
  • You can move on. Protect your energy by refusing to give it away.

When I practice this, I notice how much lighter my days feel. I have more energy for the things that actually matter. And maybe most importantly, I stop letting other people’s behavior write the story of my day.

Because at the end of the day, frustration is a story. And you get to decide whether or not you keep telling it.

Frustration Will Knock Again—Be Ready

Don’t get me wrong—I still get frustrated. I’m human. But now, instead of automatically reacting, I pause and ask myself:

Am I about to accept an invitation to frustration? Or am I going to choose peace instead?

That moment of awareness has changed my life. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

Frustration may knock, but peace is the one I let in.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What situations frustrate you most often?
  2. What expectations lie beneath that frustration?
  3. Can you trace your frustration back to an old story, wound, or belief?
  4. How does your day feel different when you choose not to engage with frustration?
  5. What’s one way you can practice pausing before accepting frustration’s “invitation” this week?

S – Stop and notice when frustration rises
L – Let go of the need to control what you can’t
A – Align your response with peace, not anger
Y – Yield to wisdom, not to the story frustration tells

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one frustration you’ve learned to stop accepting—and how did it free you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who feels constantly hijacked by frustration, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that peace is always a choice.

Put Your Own Mask On First

We hear it every time we board a plane: “In the event of a loss in cabin pressure, secure your own mask before assisting others.” It’s one of those instructions that seems counterintuitive—especially for the givers, the fixers, the caretakers among us. But when you stop to really think about it, it’s not just an airline safety rule—it’s a life lesson.

For a long time, I didn’t put on my own mask first. I’d jump in to help anyone else—whether they asked or not—believing it made me strong, loving, dependable. I was the one people could count on. But quietly, I was falling apart. I was suffocating. And I didn’t even realize it until I was gasping for air.

You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup

We’ve all heard that saying, but how many of us actually live it?

If you’ve been conditioned to believe your worth is tied to your usefulness, rest might feel selfish. Saying no might feel wrong. Asking for space might trigger guilt. But here’s the truth: constantly abandoning yourself to show up for others isn’t noble—it’s a fast track to burnout, resentment, and disconnection.

When you give from depletion, your help comes with a cost. You’re exhausted. You’re short-fused. You’re giving, but secretly hoping for a thank you, some recognition, a return on your emotional investment. And when that doesn’t come? It hurts. Because beneath all that self-sacrifice, you’re still human.

Putting your own mask on first isn’t selfish—it’s survival. It’s sustainability. It’s strength. When you’re nourished, rested, grounded—you give from overflow, not from emptiness. And everyone benefits from that version of you.

Self-Care Isn’t a Luxury—It’s a Responsibility

Somewhere along the way, we started seeing self-care as optional—as a bubble bath or a bonus. But self-care is how you keep yourself whole. It’s how you stay aligned. It’s the system check that makes sure you’re not running on fumes.

It’s not always glamorous. Sometimes, self-care is a boundary. Sometimes it’s canceling plans. Sometimes it’s letting someone else figure it out, even when you could fix it. It’s trusting that people can handle their own discomfort—and that it’s not your job to keep everything calm.

The truth is, constantly putting others first is often rooted in fear: What if they get mad? What if they leave? What if they think I’m selfish?

But ask yourself this: If you keep abandoning yourself to meet everyone else’s needs, what are you teaching them? That your needs don’t matter. That you’ll always sacrifice yourself. That love looks like martyrdom.

It doesn’t.

Show Up for You—First

Putting your own mask on first means taking inventory of your energy. It means asking: Am I okay? What do I need right now? Am I being honest about my limits?

When you start showing up for yourself, everything shifts. Your relationships become more balanced. Your boundaries become clearer. You stop saying yes when you mean no. You stop fixing what isn’t yours. And you start building a life that includes you.

This doesn’t mean you stop helping others. It just means you stop bleeding out for them. You choose to care without collapsing. You choose to support without suffocating. You choose to love from wholeness—not from empty lungs.

You’re not here to save everyone. You’re here to be you. And that’s more than enough.

So the next time you feel that urge to abandon yourself to keep the peace, to overextend just to be liked, or to put everyone ahead of you—pause. Breathe. Reach for your own mask first.

That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you feel guilty putting your needs before others? Why?
  2. What areas of your life have suffered because you’ve neglected yourself?
  3. When was the last time you truly paused and checked in with you?
  4. How would your life change if you consistently put your needs first?
  5. What’s one small act of self-care you can commit to today?

S – Stop and assess what you really need
L – Let go of guilt tied to prioritizing yourself
A – Allow yourself to rest, recharge, and reset
Y – Yield to your own healing so you can truly thrive

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What does putting your own mask on first look like for you—and how has it changed your life?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who always puts themselves last, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Confirmation Bias

We all want to believe we’re right. That the thoughts we have are the truth. That what we fear is valid. That what we suspect about others is accurate. And so, often without realizing it, we go looking for proof. Not for the truth—but for what we already believe.

That’s confirmation bias.

And it can quietly wreck everything from our relationships to our self-worth.

What Are You Trying to Prove?

Here’s the thing about the human brain: it’s not always looking for truth. It’s looking for evidence that confirms what it already believes.

If your brain believes you’re not good enough, it will dismiss compliments and zero in on criticism.

If your brain thinks no one can be trusted, it will interpret a delayed text or a short tone as betrayal.

If you believe someone doesn’t like you, you’ll search their face and their actions for the tiniest piece of proof—and you’ll find it, even if it isn’t real.

We all do it. It’s human.

But when we act on that bias instead of reality, we reinforce the story we already believe—and miss the opportunity for connection, growth, and healing.

When I Believed the Worst

For a long time, I believed I was unworthy. That no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. That I would always be the one left behind.

So I looked for proof.

I clung to any sign of rejection. I dismissed care or kindness because I assumed it wouldn’t last. I assumed I was being judged, even when no one was paying attention to me.

I thought I was being self-aware. I thought I was protecting myself.

But what I was really doing was building a case against myself, collecting data that wasn’t even true. And every time I gave weight to a moment of perceived rejection, I was closing a door. I was missing a chance to see that maybe the story I was telling myself wasn’t the whole truth.

And if it wasn’t the truth? Maybe I wasn’t broken after all.

How to Break the Bias

Awareness is everything.

Next time you find yourself thinking, “See? I knew it,” pause.

Ask yourself:

What am I trying to prove right now? And is this actually true—or just familiar?

Confirmation bias feels like safety. It feels like control. But really, it’s just an old loop. One you can break.

Try asking someone you trust for a reality check. Or write down your belief and then list the evidence for and against it.

Better yet, ask yourself: Would I talk to someone I love the way I’m talking to myself right now?

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • What beliefs do I keep trying to prove?
  • Where did those beliefs come from?
  • How is confirmation bias limiting my relationships?
  • Do I trust my thoughts more than I trust what’s real?
  • What would it feel like to look for evidence of the opposite being true?

S – L – A – Y

S: Spot the belief that keeps repeating.
L: Listen for the moment you start searching for proof.
A: Ask yourself what else could be true.
Y: Yield to possibility. It’s where healing begins.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s a belief you’ve spent a long time trying to prove—and what happened when you questioned it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in a loop of self-doubt, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Name Your Brain

Ever catch yourself spiraling into self-doubt or reacting like the sky is falling… when it’s really not? You’re not alone. That voice in your head—the one that catastrophizes, criticizes, or convinces you you’re not enough—it has a mind of its own.

So what if you gave it a name?

That’s right. Name your brain. Give that voice a personality, an identity, a little flair. Why? Because separating you from your thoughts helps you manage them with more clarity—and maybe even a little compassion.

Why Naming Your Brain Works

When you name your brain, you create space between you and the mental noise. You stop treating every thought as truth and start seeing them for what they really are: patterns. Most of them were wired in long ago—through experiences, messaging, and survival mode. But they’re not your whole story.

Let’s say your brain loves worst-case scenarios. It goes from “I made a mistake” to “I’m going to lose everything” in under five seconds. Instead of spiraling with it, what if you said:

“Okay, here comes that same old voice again. We’ve heard this one before—and we’re not falling for it.”

Naming helps you shift from fear to awareness. You start to notice your patterns, question them, and choose a new response. It turns down the emotional intensity and gives you the power back.

What’s Your Brain’s Personality?

Start by observing. When stress hits, how does your brain talk to you?

  • Is it hypercritical? (“You’ll never get this right.”)
  • Dramatic? (“This is a disaster!”)
  • Perfectionist? (“Not good enough. Try harder.”)
  • People-pleaser? (“Don’t speak up. You’ll upset them.”)

Now give that voice a name and a persona. Think of it like casting a character. Your name can be oddly specific, or just descriptive—whatever helps you take the edge off and reclaim your power.

For me, naming my brain made me think of it in a different way—less like a runaway train and more like an annoying voice or committee that would show up and try to spoil my day. Giving it a name helped me keep it in perspective. It gave me something specific to talk back to—and even tell to take a hike.

I mean, I wouldn’t put up with someone else saying the kinds of things my brain sometimes did—so why would I take that abuse from myself?

These days, when that voice pops in, I can say: “I hear you, but we’re not doing that today.” And it really does help.

From Reaction to Redirection

Once your brain has a name, you can start redirecting instead of reacting.

“Thanks for your concern, but I’ve got this.”

“We’ve heard enough from that old voice—let’s listen to truth instead.”

You’re not ignoring your emotions—you’re choosing to respond differently. That’s the real flex. When you stop giving your inner critic the mic, you make space for the wiser, calmer, more grounded version of you to speak.

Naming Isn’t Silly—It’s Self-Awareness

This practice is rooted in mindfulness and psychology. Creating mental distance from unhelpful thoughts is a proven way to disrupt negative cycles and build emotional resilience.

It’s not about dismissing your feelings. It’s about shifting from “this is me” to “is this me—or is this an old pattern or story?” It’s about knowing your truth, staying present, and calling out those old thoughts—and showing them the door.

The name is just a tool to help you step into that choice. Again and again.

Who Do You Want Driving the Bus?

At the end of the day, your brain will keep doing what it’s always done—unless you take the wheel. When your old mental pattern starts driving toward chaos, anxiety, or shame, you get to say:

“Thanks for the warning, but I’m steering us in a different direction.”

Empowerment starts when you realize you are not your thoughts. You’re the observer. The narrator. The author. You can write a different story—and still let those old characters pop in from time to time, without giving them control.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What type of thoughts show up when you’re stressed, insecure, or overwhelmed?
  2. What name would you give the voice that fuels those thoughts?
  3. How does it feel to separate yourself from that voice?
  4. What kinds of things does your brain say that you no longer believe?
  5. How can you start responding with curiosity and compassion instead of judgment?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Separate yourself from your thoughts
  • Label the patterns
  • Acknowledge the impact
  • You are in charge of your response

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever given your brain a name? What would you call the voice that tries to take over?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in a spiral of self-doubt, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

Truth Without Testing

We often accept the thoughts we think every day as truth—without ever asking where they came from or if they’re even real.
But your dominant assumptions are more than thoughts.
They’re blueprints, quietly sculpting how you see yourself… and how you show up in the world.

If you never stop to question the story, you might keep building a life on someone else’s beliefs.
This is your reminder to pause, get curious, and challenge what you’ve been living on autopilot.

Your mind is listening.
Make sure it’s following a truth that’s actually yours.

SLAY on!

Let Them

This one hits close to home.
Because for a long time, I didn’t know how to let people be who they are.
I was always trying to manage, to steer, to shape the outcome I wanted.
Even when it was wrapped in good intentions, it was still control.

The truth is, trying to change someone—whether it’s their behavior, their choices, or how they show up—only leaves you drained, resentful, and disappointed.
Why? Because it’s not your job.
It never was.

The moment I truly understood that…
The moment I stopped trying to micromanage other people’s lives, reactions, or growth…
Was the moment I started finding peace.

The Mindset Shift That Changed Everything

Let them.

Let them say what they want.
Let them make their choices.
Let them believe what they believe.
Let them walk away—or come back—or stay exactly the same.

Because it’s not your responsibility to make someone become who you want them to be.
And it’s not your failure when they don’t.

The need to control others is often rooted in fear.
Fear of abandonment.
Fear of chaos.
Fear that if someone doesn’t change, you won’t be okay.

But guess what?
You will be okay.
Because your peace, your healing, your worth—none of it depends on someone else getting it right.

Expectations Are Heavy

Most of us don’t realize how much energy we spend trying to get someone to meet our expectations.
We want them to act differently, to love better, to show up the way we imagined they would.

And when they don’t?
We get frustrated.
We get hurt.
We spiral.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth:
They never agreed to those expectations.

They’re being who they are.
And we’re the ones trying to rewrite their character in our story.

What if instead of trying to change them—we just let them?

Letting Go Is a Boundary

“Let them” isn’t passive.
It’s powerful.

It’s not about giving up.
It’s about letting go of what was never yours to hold in the first place.

Let them be who they are—so you can stay rooted in who you are.

It’s a boundary.
A decision to protect your energy by not chasing down someone else’s growth.

When you stop investing in the outcome you wish for and start accepting the truth of what is, you reclaim your power.

You also make space for people who can meet you where you are.
Who choose to show up.
Who don’t need to be changed, convinced, or coerced.

Peace Lives in Acceptance

Let them believe the lie.
Let them ghost you.
Let them not understand your heart.
Let them leave the group chat.
Let them love someone else.
Let them misunderstand you.
Let them think they’re right.
Let them talk behind your back.

And while they do?

Let yourself grow.
Let yourself feel.
Let yourself heal.
Let yourself move on.
Let yourself love without attachment.
Let yourself stay soft and strong at the same time.

You are not here to force alignment.
You are here to be aligned—with yourself.

SLAY Reflection: Where Are You Holding On Too Tightly?

  1. Who in your life are you trying to manage, fix, or control?
    What are you hoping to change—and why?
  2. How has that effort affected your peace, energy, or self-worth?
    What are you losing in the process?
  3. What would it look like to “let them” be exactly who they are?
    What fear comes up when you consider that?
  4. How can you create a boundary that protects your energy without trying to change theirs?
    What could you gain by stepping back?
  5. What’s one relationship or situation where “letting them” would bring you more emotional freedom?
    How can you start that shift today?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve learned to let someone be who they are—and how did that shift your peace?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s holding on too tightly, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Just Because You Hit A Bottom Doesn’t Mean You Have To Stay There

For most of us, there’s been a time when we’ve hit bottom.
And for many of us, there have been many.

But just because you find yourself at a bottom doesn’t mean you have to stay there.
In fact, sometimes hitting bottom can be the very thing that propels you upward—it can be a turning point, a wake-up call, a catalyst for change.

What matters most is that you recognize it as a bottom.
And then decide you’re not going to live there.

You Don’t Have to Ride It All the Way to the Dump

Looking back, I had many bottoms before I hit the one that finally brought me to my knees.

There were so many moments I should have asked for help…
So many warning signs I ignored…
So many nights I let myself spiral deeper into darkness.

But the truth is: we’re ready when we’re ready.

And if we’re lucky, we get that one moment—the one where something shifts, where the fear becomes too loud to ignore, and we finally ask for help.

For me, that moment came from fear.
Fear of where my mental illness had taken me.
Fear of where it might take me next.

I don’t know why that particular night was different.
There were many terrifying nights before it.
But that night, I got scared enough to pick up the phone.

And in doing so, I opened the door to my own recovery.

The Power of Saying “Enough”

There’s a saying I love:
“You don’t have to ride the truck all the way to the dump.”

You can get off at any time.

Even in the darkest place, even at your lowest, you have a choice.
You always have the option to get off the path that’s dragging you down.
But you have to believe that it’s possible.
And you have to take action.

When I was deep in my illness, I felt powerless.
Like I was strapped to a runaway train.
But that wasn’t true.

I always had a ticket off that train.
And the moment I picked up the phone and asked for help, I used it.

That one action—speaking my truth—shifted everything.

I didn’t have all the answers yet.
I still had work to do.
But the secret I had been carrying was out.
The weight I had been holding got lighter.
And for the first time, I realized I was in control of my recovery.

Recognizing the Bottom for What It Is

It’s so important to notice your bottoms.
To recognize when you’ve fallen harder than usual.
To acknowledge when you’re staying down longer than you want to.

Because that moment of awareness?
That’s the moment you can begin to rise.

We all fall.
We all struggle.
But no one has to stay in the pit.

Freedom starts with acceptance.
The willingness to see where you are—and the courage to choose something better.

A bottom doesn’t have to be the end of your story.
It can be the beginning of your comeback.

From Rock Bottom to Rise

A bottom might just be the biggest blessing in disguise.

It might be the one thing that finally gets your attention.
The one thing that cracks you open.
The one thing that forces you to stop, reflect, and change direction.

You don’t have to stay down.
You don’t have to prove anything to anyone by suffering longer.

Your story is still being written.
And a bottom can be the moment you choose a new chapter.

Use it to rise. Use it to SLAY.

SLAY Reflection: What Is Your Bottom Telling You?

Has a past bottom ever helped you grow or pivot in a new direction?
How can you use that lesson now?

Have you ever hit a bottom in your life?
What were the signs? What did it feel like?

Have you hit multiple bottoms?
What made the most recent one different?

Are you currently in a bottom?
If so, what are you doing about it—or avoiding?

What’s holding you back from asking for help or making a change?
What could shift if you took just one small step?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What helped you recognize a bottom in your life—and what did you do to rise from it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to climb out of a hard place, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Just Because You Make Mistakes Doesn’t Mean You Are A Mistake

We all make mistakes.
It’s how we grow. It’s how we learn.
Sometimes we learn to do things differently, and sometimes we simply learn that mistakes are just part of the process—an oops, not an identity.

But there’s a dangerous turning point many of us reach:
When we start to believe that we are the mistake.

That’s when mistakes stop being lessons and start becoming labels.
And when we internalize our failures, we block our own growth.

The Trap of Perfectionism

When I was living in the dark, I believed I was a mistake.
Every time I messed up—even just a little—I used it as proof that I was broken, unworthy, or incapable.

I set impossibly high standards for myself, and when I didn’t meet them, I punished myself emotionally.

  • I beat myself up.
  • I questioned my worth.
  • I kept mental score of every misstep.

Perfection wasn’t just the goal—it was the requirement.
And every time I fell short, I used it as another reason to feel like I had failed at life.

The Permission to Mess Up

Everything changed when I got help.
I was told something I had never even considered:
It’s okay to make mistakes. In fact, it’s encouraged.

Mistakes meant I was trying.
Mistakes meant I was doing something new.
Mistakes meant I was taking action—even if the outcome didn’t go as planned.

That shift in thinking opened the door to something I hadn’t felt in a long time: freedom.

I stopped needing to be perfect and started focusing on being present.
I learned to ask, What can this mistake teach me? instead of, What does this say about me?

Listening to the Signs

Another thing I began to notice?
I made more mistakes when I wasn’t taking care of myself.

If I was tired, overwhelmed, underfed, or overworked—my errors increased.
And instead of blaming myself, I started seeing those slip-ups as signals.

  • Maybe I needed rest.
  • Maybe I needed better boundaries.
  • Maybe I needed to slow down.

Mistakes became more than just missteps—they became a check-in.
An opportunity to notice where I might be neglecting my own needs.

Mistakes That Lead to Magic

Here’s the other thing:
Some of my biggest mistakes?
They’ve led me to some of the most beautiful parts of my life.

If I hadn’t taken the wrong turn, I wouldn’t have found the right path.
If I hadn’t said yes when I probably should have said no, I wouldn’t have learned what a real yes feels like.

We don’t always know in the moment, but sometimes what we call a mistake is actually just a redirection.
A plot twist with a purpose.

The Only Real Mistake?

The only mistake you can make is not taking action because you’re afraid of failing.
Playing it safe. Holding back. Staying small. That’s where real regret grows.

Life isn’t about getting it right all the time.
It’s about trying.
Learning.
Adjusting.
And trying again.

Mistakes are just part of the road.
They’re not roadblocks. They’re guides.

And they are never who you are.

SLAY Reflection: What Are You Learning?

  1. Do you tend to beat yourself up when you make a mistake?
    What does your inner voice sound like in those moments?
  2. Have any of your past mistakes led to something unexpectedly positive?
    What did you learn?
  3. What can you do to be more forgiving of yourself when you mess up?
    What would you say to a friend in your position?
  4. Are you holding back from taking action out of fear of making a mistake?
    What might shift if you gave yourself permission to just try?
  5. How can you begin turning your mistakes into tools for learning instead of weapons for self-punishment?
    What would change if you saw them as stepping stones instead of stop signs?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one mistake you’ve learned from—and how did it help you grow?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s being too hard on themselves, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.