can’t. shouldn’t. mustn’t.
If you made a wordcloud of the contents of my head, they’d be the top three (rounding out the top five would be ‘tea’ and ‘making’). Those three words dullthudding around my brain like marbles on a concrete floor, every single day. Not much of a soundtrack, is it?
There is more than the tired refrain of can’t. shouldn’t. mustn’t. There is more than ruling myself out, turning down chance after chance because I can’t, because someone like me shouldn’t, because I mustn’t.
Now, to see what that is.
beads, buttons, apples & tea 
I think, on reflection, that this is a record that I must also change.
My dear, you can and you will. I’d love to see what you will do 🙂
Triple like and understand this. And you of all people can and should and must. x
I will give it a bloody good bash, m’dear 🙂
Can’t, not good enough, lazy, are mine. Horrible words. Good luck in your quest, lovely.
What a horrible script that is, and none of it is true. I am always struck by how the most capable, intelligent people can have this awful script bashing away inside themselves (myself excepted).
I saw a phrase recently that kind of struck me (on Facebook of all places). What would you do if you weren’t afraid? I’m not saying I’m any good at living by this but it helps a bit.
It’s a fair question, isn’t it? I think I’d be a few days answering it, too.. how about you?
Oh, that inner script!
I had a chat recently with the daughter of a good friend. Twenty, kind, smart, gorgeous – and utterly lacking in any form of confidence. I was really honest and talked about the fact that the things we don’t like about ourselves at twenty don’t change, unless we change them. The script stays the same, unless we write a new one. I told her you have to decide what kind of person you want to be and then you have to BE that person. You don’t become brave without doing things that scare the living bejasus out of you, said I, wisely. Lest you think I consider myself the exception I also told her that the fears I had at twenty I still have at forty. This was a light-bulb moment for me, a revelation. I mean – what?! Anyway. I’ve said enough. I have to go be the person I want to be now.
And, dear heart, you must and you should and of course, of course you can.
I’m glad that young woman was lucky enough to share her concerns with you; what you said in return should be written in letters a quarter mile high, where we can all see ’em.
(Thank you.)