001. Give Yourself Permission
Kneeling hasn’t served you. And making their fears your own won’t save you.
1/100: If you had to write a letter to your younger self, preparing them for this year, what would you say?
Dear Nneka,
You were trained to wait for permission.
Praised for shrinking.
Rewarded for following orders.
I know you’d love to believe this isn’t the case, but it leaks off your language and underscores your every decision.
You come from a long line of powerful women. Women who hid grains of rice in the corner of houses during the Khmer Rouge, women who fed the entire village with whatever they willed their gardens to grow during the Biafran war, women who fled to Thailand on foot and cleaned houses and changed diapers and pushed paperwork and took care of everyone and everything until their very last exhale.
All that power with no real freedom, taught to sacrifice and comply in order to survive.
That’s why you naturally play at artist, the one thing you know you were born to be with one hand dutifully tied behind your back, chained by cultures that crown incompetent sons over any deserving daughters.
And you’ve tried to kneel. Tried to convince yourself that the people around you could design a life you could happily live. That they were looking out for your best interest, your well-being. You nodded as they preached you be practical. Be patient. Be grateful. Be obedient. But kneeling hasn’t served you. And making their fears your own won’t save you.
And no matter how hard you try to silence the call to create, the voice only grows louder.
And I hope as you’re reading this, you can hear nothing else.
I’m not writing to warn you or tell you what’s going to happen. But, I can tell you there is no cheat code. No hack. No way around. Every single day you will have to go to war with your conditioning. You must fight the false idea that you’re only deserving if someone says you are. That you’re lazy. Undisciplined. Uninspired. That you were born to be a passenger. You must forge a new identity through unapologetic action towards that which you deem worthy. And remember that in your hands are always two options:
COMFORTABLE DIMINISHMENT or UNCOMFORTABLE ENLARGEMENT
Choosing uncomfortable enlargement means facing the fear, the work, finishing what you’ve started: writing the books, shooting the films, growing the businesses, pubbing your art more than anyone else’s.It means venturing into uncharted territory. Both internally and externally. It means building courage and practicing patience and taking your gifts seriously.
It means action on your own behalf.
It will not be easy. Doing is uncomfortable. Commitment is uncomfortable. Accountability is uncomfortable. Any endeavor that requires a piece of flesh is uncomfortable.
But it’s the only way we start a new sentence, that eventually builds a paragraph, over and over, filling the page—our lives—until the chapter changes.
So every day, give yourself the permission to pick up the pen and go to work on a life no one could ever write you.
Love,
Nneka
Thank you for watching, reading, listening.
Very, very excited to read your answers for this one, friends.
Thank you so much for this Nneka♥️🥹.
Personally, I’d tell my younger self (especially my teenage self) -I’m currently 23-that it gets better with God and time. She walks into seasons of greatness and endless blessings. And therefore she has to practice discipline and gratitude so that she doesn’t lose everything.
I’d also tell her to prepare to love herself more and put herself first. She has spent many years putting others on a pedestal but this year, she works on prioritizing herself.
I’d tell her that regardless of all the self improvement, it’s okay to take a breather and rest. That rest is not something bad.
Lastly, I’d tell her that life gets easier but that doesn’t mean that there’s no difficulty whatsoever. She has to focus way less on the negative things and remember to cherish the good.
Can’t wait for letter 2.
Stay blessed ✨
go to war with your conditioning. This phrase will stick with me. Thank you.