Don’t you just love those moments in life when you have total, complete clarity?

When all at once there is ZERO ambiguity, and you know exactly what’s most important to you?

Even if it’s hard, even if it’s going to stretch you to the limit … there is beauty in knowing precisely what needs to happen next.

It’s the moment when you KNOW …

It’s time to quit.
It’s time to start.
This is over.
This is beginning.
I’m going to marry him.
She’ll be my friend for life.

(Sidebar: That’s why coaching is so powerful. Done right, it helps you to dig deep and discover those crystalline truths within yourself.)

I had one of those crystal-clear moments when my little family and I took a very long road trip a few months back.

It was a simple, awful knowing: This isn’t right for our baby.

To be fair, our then-four-month-old bore up like a champ on that 40 hour round trip. (I wish that was a typo, but it’s not.)

Baby on the road trip

Still, I was heartsick that I’d asked that much of her. It wasn’t good for her to be in her car seat for that long, much less on the road in the treacherous conditions.

Let me be clear: That decision was mine to make. There were lots of other choices I could have made … to fly, for example, or forgo the trip entirely.

And for a time I was furious at myself. Furious that I hadn’t counted the cost. Furious that I hadn’t put first things first.

On our return journey, there were times when road conditions were so bad — torrential rain, myriad wrecks — that I feared we might not make it home at all.

(Can’t see the road? Neither could I.)

Dark road


During that dark time I wrote out a solemn vow. It began like this:

“I promise that I will put the safety and well-being of our child and our family over anyone else’s preferences or pressures.”

On our baby’s behalf, I am braver than I used to be.

When my husband and I didn’t feel comfortable with a new caregiver, I initiated that difficult “This isn’t a good fit” conversation. I sweat through my shirt, but I did it.

At the pediatrician, I asked all of my questions about shots, even when I could feel others’ impatience. That felt awkward too, but I kept reminding myself: This is our child’s health and safety. I will NOT let my fear of being “that mom” get in the way.

And when I hear comments like, “She CAN’T be tired already!” at our baby’s nap time, I do not explain or defend the decision to help her rest.

I just pick up our girl, and take her to her crib. Typically she beams up at me, grabs her giraffe teether, and rolls over to sleep.

I keep my focus on her needs, and I tune the rest out.

I am fierce on our baby’s behalf. When it comes to loving this child, there is no stopping me.

And also … there’s more to that promise I made on the drive.

I didn’t just commit to taking care of our baby. I committed to taking care of ME.

After that initial line, I wrote:

“I fully commit to taking care of both little girls in my care – my inner child and our daughter – and making wise choices accordingly. If that means that someone else is upset with my/our choices, then that’s too damn bad.”

My growth edge, my challenge, is to be as fierce on my own behalf as I am on our baby’s behalf. To recommit, again and again, to taking care of my own tender self.

What does that look like? It starts simple:

Going to bed when I feel tired.
Eating real food when I am hungry. (And turning down the foods and drinks that feel like poison in my body.)
Saying yes when I mean yes, and no when I mean no. (And, as Glennon Doyle would say, “letting the rest burn.”)
Deciding to actually listen to myself, creating space each day to listen to what I truly want and need.

Fortunately, I have the tools I need; I know how to get stronger and more fiercely on my own side.

What about you, dear one? Do you need some of that fierceness for yourself?

Perhaps you know what it’s like to neglect yourself. To pay more attention to external pressures than to internal truths.

Perhaps you are fed up with throwing yourself and your needs under the bus.

Perhaps you feel stuck and trapped in old patterns. (You want to be confident, to set boundaries, but you just keep choking on the words.)

Perhaps you wish you had a warrior woman on your side.

The good news is — you do. She lives inside of you already.

It’s time to summon her up, don’t you think? It’s time to be your own best ally, protector, and friend.

If that’s what you want, I invite you to come talk to me. I’ll support you, creating a safe space for you to know what you know and feel what you feel.

Book your complimentary Clarity Call right here.

And then get ready to watch the warrior woman rise.

Fiercely yours,

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