I'm done talking myself out of my own damn life
For years, I was the woman who could turn a simple decision into a full-blown investigation.
I'd think about it. Overthink it. Ask someone else's opinion. Question that opinion. Imagine everything that could go wrong. And then, just for fun, lie awake at 2 a.m. wondering whether I was making a huge mistake.
Exhausting? Absolutely.
Did I keep doing it anyway? You bet your ass I did.
I spent a lot of my life worrying about what other people thought, trying not to disappoint anyone, and second-guessing decisions that should've been mine to make.
I could encourage somebody else to go after what they wanted without hesitation.
But when it came to trusting myself?
Well, apparently that required a committee meeting, three references, and written approval from the universe.
And I'm finally getting tired of living that way.
I'm a mom of two grown kids, a writer, and a woman in her forties who's realizing that having a life full of people you love doesn't automatically mean you've made enough room for yourself.
For years, there was always something that needed doing. Someone who needed something. A problem to solve. A responsibility to handle. And I love my family. I wouldn't trade those years.
But when your kids start building lives of their own, something shifts.
The house gets quieter.
The routines change.
And suddenly there's a question you haven't had much time to think about:
What the hell do I want now?
It can be liberating when you don't have to wonder what makes sense to everybody else, what keeps everyone comfortable, or what should I want at this age. I found it downright terrifying when I asked What do I want?
It's a surprisingly uncomfortable question when you've spent years being really good at taking care of everything except your own damn needs.
I'm still figuring out the answer.
But for once, I want to be the one who gets to decide.
Let's clear that up right now.
I still overthink things.
I still have moments when I question myself.
I still occasionally catch myself worrying about somebody's reaction to a decision that has absolutely nothing to do with them.
The difference is, I'm getting better at noticing when I'm doing it.
And I'm learning that I don't have to believe every anxious thought my brain throws at me.
I don't have to wait until I feel completely confident.
I don't have to explain every boundary like I'm defending myself in court.
And I sure as hell don't have to spend the next half of my life trying to make sure nobody ever has an opinion about me.
Because they're going to have opinions anyway.
Might as well give them something to talk about.
Because I know I'm not the only woman who's tired of living inside her own head.
I know there are women lying awake at night replaying conversations, questioning their choices, wondering if they're good enough, and trying to figure out when they're finally going to feel like themselves again.
Women who can handle everybody else's emergencies but panic over saying no.
Women who are brilliant at giving advice and absolutely terrible at taking their own.
Women who have spent years showing up for everybody and are starting to wonder whether they're allowed to want more for themselves.
This is where we talk about the stuff we usually keep to ourselves.
Confidence. Self-doubt. Overthinking. People-pleasing. Boundaries. Self-worth. Getting older. Starting over. Letting go. Making mistakes. Changing our minds.
And learning to become the woman who makes her own damn decisions.
Some days, the words here will be gentle.
Some days, they'll hit a little harder.
And some days, you might find yourself reading something like:
Because sometimes we need understanding.
And sometimes we need a girlfriend to lovingly call us on our bullshit.
Personally, I think there's room for both.
I've always loved writing
Over the years, I've written books across different genres, explored business ideas, and followed creative interests that have taken me in more than one direction.
And I don't see any reason I should have to squeeze myself into one tidy little box now.
I'm a mother. A writer. A woman with a sense of humor, a whole lot of life experience, and a growing appreciation for the freedom that comes with caring a little less about what everybody thinks.
I love honest conversations, the kind where nobody has to pretend their life is perfect.
The kind where you can admit something uncomfortable, laugh at yourself, swear a little, and leave feeling like maybe you're not the only one figuring this shit out.
That's what I want this space to feel like.
Not a lecture. Not a highlight reel.
Just real life, honest words, and the occasional loving kick in the ass.
You can love the life you've built and still want something different.
You can be grateful and restless.
You can be scared and still make the decision.
You can be a good person and have boundaries.
You can disappoint someone without becoming a disappointment.
You can start over without having to explain why the old version of your life no longer fits.
And you can spend years doubting yourself without being required to spend the rest of your life doing the same.
I'm not trying to become a woman who never gets anything wrong.
I'm trying to become a woman who trusts herself enough to live anyway.
And maybe you are too.
If you've ever talked yourself out of something you wanted, said yes when you meant no, or spent an entire evening worrying about a conversation that lasted thirty seconds...
I think we're going to get along just fine.
You can find my savage little reality checks and more personal thoughts on Instagram and Threads.
You can explore the deeper conversations here on the blog.
And if you want something a little more personal, I'd love for you to join Letters from Ness — my Tuesday notes about real life, overthinking, self-trust, and figuring things out as we go.
No pretending we've got it all together. No waiting until we're perfect.
Just one woman talking to another.
We're not doing this shit anymore.
See you in the wash,
Vanessa
Decide & Carry On
I write about the thoughts that keep us awake, the choices we keep putting off, and what it takes to trust ourselves anyway. The next letter goes out Tuesday. It's free to tag along.